Assassin's Creed:Transcendence
by juno57
Summary: Continuation of the storyline after the end of ACIII. I can't really give any more description without including spoilers, so I'll have to leave it at that for the time being! If you're familiar with my work, then you'll know what to expect! MAJOR SPOILERS, DO NOT READ UNTIL YOU'VE FINISHED ACIII!
1. Prologue

**Hey all! I'm warning you once again, that if you read this, there will be MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THE GAME. TURN BACK IF YOU HAVEN'T PLAYED, AND THEN RETURN TO READ THIS ONCE YOU HAVE !**

**Follows the events of the ending of ACIII, and is my personal take of what will happen next. **

**Again, that's MAJOR SPOILERS**

**Again, MAJOR SPOILERS. **

**Yeah, **

**UBISOFT OWNS THESE MAJOR SPOILERS AND EVERYTHING ELSE**

**I only own the shattered pieces of my heart, and my theories as to what COULD happen next. **

**sobs**

**Anyways, read, review and repeat!**

**ONCE AGAIN, SPOILERS!**

* * *

His eyes never wavered as he approached the pedestal. The cold glow of the round orb pulsed in his honeyed eyes as his hand extended. Juno's eyes matched the cruel smile swelling across her holographic features. Desmond couldn't hear the protest of the group, the scuffing of their steps taken as they fled against their will. When William turned his head for one last look at his son, Desmond was oblivious.

All he heard was the blood rushing through his veins, the way his heart throbbed against his ribcage. His mind both at peace and utter chaos as he took the final step towards it, towards her; towards the end.

* * *

His hand lighted against the surface, and his mind shook as it began to smoulder. He grimaced, jaw set against the burn that flared up his arm, imbedding itself in his heart. The dull ache that had resided there since October had now been given a corporeal form, and he felt its rhythm falter. Soft tears spilled from his eyes as his flesh weakened and bowed under the pain and the realization of his actions. He reached a shaking hand up to the one on the orb, vainly trying to wrench it free.

Or secure it.

He groaned as he felt the last threads of his mind burn and snap, disconnecting him from 2012, the slow white bloom spreading across his field of vision. His last string of thoughts allowed for him a final farewell to those he never saw– who he'd never see again.

_Maybe I'll meet you again, Lucy._

_Mom – I'm so…_

_The whole team, Shaun, Rebecca… dad. I… you've gotta… be able to…_

_stop…_

_Her…_

_Save... us. _

* * *

Juno lowered her gaze to Desmond's form, grinning as his body slumped without guidance; an empty husk.

"You have done your part well, Desmond." Stepping through him, she continued towards the mouth of the Grand Temple, "Now, it is my turn."

Without turning back, she glided across the stones, each step bringing her closer to her self-aligned destiny, and away from her prison. Away she stepped from her Key– the soldier of the world.

One day, he might return. When they needed him most.

* * *

**A/N this is just the prologue, new chapter will be up ASAP :P Hold onto those feels, Assassins!**

**Stay lovely, **

**juno57**


	2. Awakening

**Hey all! **

**Wow! I'm really surprised, and amazed, at the attention this fic got!**

**I guess we're all looking for closure, huh?**

**As I mentioned to quite a few of you, sorry about the shortness, the previous chapter was a prologue. Here's where things start to get interesting :D**

**Read, review, and repeat!**

**Ubisoft owns the characters and the universe. **

**The predictions are mine :P**

* * *

Awakening was hardly fitting for the experience he felt.

Warmth contrasted the cold emptiness. Gradual, infinitesimal. It grew. Time has no meaning to one who cannot fathom its definition, its purpose. And so he drifted, alone and blind along the river. Alone, but not abandoned.

The soldier waited, unaware of the factors slowly being aligned in his favour. The slight glimpses of a memory or two as the repair began served to mark his progress. His hands remained still, the occasional twitch flickered across them softly, as a malformed impulse struggled for birth. Slowly but surely, the waves returned, until eventually, crested with the opening of his eyes.

Whiteness in glaring saturation was all his infant senses could comprehend. His mouth opened in shock, as next the pain of disconnection surged through every nerve ending, as they awoke from their sleep. The familiar burn coursed through him, his breathing irregular and agonizing. His eyes rolled back, as he struggled against the hands that squeezed his heart. A cool presence rested in proximity to his forehead, not touching, but near. Near enough to effect him, and he ceased his struggle; darkness consumed once again.

* * *

He waited now, for the man of dreamless sleep to wake. His eyes absorbed the details of the man's internal functions with peaked concern. The machine embraced him for a time, until he was ready to wake. Ready to see again, and to feel; the gifts of all six senses restored unto him.

* * *

Desmond's eyes rolled forward, his lids slowly parting to take in the world around him. At first, blotches of unfamiliar colours muddled together, and his brow furrowed in confusion. His fingers flexed experimentally, and he slowly brought his hand to his face. The large mottled blotch slowly, gradually softened, and he saw his fingers; he followed the translucent tubes in his arms down to the rock-like surface they protruded from. He turned his gaze to the other hand, noticing that it too was plugged into the ground. Emotions that he still couldn't put into words expressed themselves as a grunt strained from his unused vocal chords, its strange sound echoed around off the stone and metal.

He stopped when he noticed that his head was cradled in some sort of apparatus. Turning it too far to the left or right proved to be discomforting, and unnerving, and so he stopped. It was almost as if his head was caught in some sort of gravitational field, and when it strayed to far from the axis, heaviness would weight on it, until he retuned it back.

He tried lifting his hand to investigate, however, the cords attached to his arms restricted his movement greatly. He waited, as it was his only option remaining. In the hours that passed, his faculties returned at an exponential rate– enough so, that after a while, he realized he was feeling something aside from pain and confusion.

Impatience.

_What's going on? How long have I been here, yet seen nothing?_

He squeezed his eyes shut in an effort to still the thousands of questions screaming from behind his eyes.

_She said it wouldn't hurt– _

_How the hell am I still alive? If you can call this alive– for all I know, this could be, shit, I dunno. Purgatory? Sure as hell isn't heaven. _

He strained in his reclined position, realizing the ache between his shoulders from remaining in the same position for so long. He rolled them experimentally, and sighed in frustration at his circumstances.

_Is it too much to ask for some answers?! Where the hell am I?!_

"Hello?" his voice cracked and fell on the last syllable from underuse. The only reply that reached his ears was the echo of his own broken question.

He huffed, and closed his eyes.

_Think– what could have happened? Juno said, er, Minerva said, that I freed her I'll be destroyed, "You'll be destroyed." _

_Did she mean humanity? Or me? _

A small flicker of light cast over Desmond's body, and he turned to face it.

"Who –"

"You must have many questions for me, Desmond, and in time, all shall be revealed." The figure approached him, towering down over Desmond with a placid smile, "I am known by many names, such as those of my kind. Mulciber. Vulcan. Hephaestus– one in the same."

Desmond's face contorted as a flurry of questions stirred simultaneously.

Hephaestus raised his hand, "Now is not the time, Desmond. Wait, only wait, and all will be revealed to you."

"I've heard that one before– you actually expected me to stand for this? Fuck yo–"

"Listen to me, you need to repair. Your body has been weakened, but I am making it new. Whole. I have restored to you what was taken. Your birthright."

Desmond opened his mouth to protest, but felt his eyelids close against their volition.

"Rest now."

* * *

William sat in silence as the van sped along the country highway. The occasional bump in the road the only feeling left in him. In his hands he held the Apple of Eden, his only tangible item he had to hold in remembrance. He glanced out of the van's window, eyes only met with the bleak light of the early hour. The team travelled the next few minutes in reflective silence, both out of grievance and of respect to his sacrifice.

"So, what the hell do we do now?"

"I don't really know Rebecca." William turned the Apple's smooth surface in his hands as he thought, "Perhaps the best bet would be to regroup with some of the others. We have bigger problems than the Templars for the time being."

Shaun nodded, "Yeah, now instead we have a revenge-bent deity walking the earth, ready to do, well, you know, whatever it is that she wants. That's worse– much worse if you ask me."

"What do you mean by that Shaun?" The coldness in her eyes still remained as he tried to explain himself.

"I wasn't talking about his choice– I mean compared to Juno, the Templars are a walk in the bloody park."

William scoffed.

"Well, at least we know they're human, and uh, bound to the same physics as the rest of us."

"You think too much Shaun. Shouldn't you be focussing on the road anyway?"

"I can multitask, Rebecca. I'm not that primitive."

"Shaun, Rebecca, please. Let's not start this again."

"Yeah… sorry, I guess we're all a little–"

"On edge?"

"Yeah."

"So, where exactly is Gavin, Bill?"

"He's here– but we're not going to him. Actually, it's time we had a little help."

"I need a destination Bill, I can't just bloody drive around all d–"

"Kingston."

Shaun froze for a moment, a knowing glint in his eyes, "Oh…." He murmured. "I've been dreaming of this, to think, we actually get to see it."

"Waiting for what– see what? Shaun, tell me you asshole!"

"Hey, watch the language there. I'm still in shock you know."

She rolled her eyes.

"Just try to get some sleep. We'll be there soon enough."

With an exasperated huff she sank deeper into her chair, and pulled her headphones over her ears. The lull of sleep came easy to her weary mind as the van hurried along the empty road.

* * *

The disconcerting sensation of free fall jolted Desmond awake. He lurched upward, only stopping when he felt his head being tugged back by that infuriating and confusing sensation.

"Hey– anyone?" his eyes scanned around the cold stone and metal of the Grand Temple, searching for the figure he had seen before. He felt an unfamiliar tingle in his arms, and he looked down, dumbstruck at the rippling glow of light that travelled up them just beneath the skin.

_That's new…_

"Desmond– you have awoken. This is a good sign."

He whipped his head up from examining his arm, regarding the man with suspicion and anger, "Are you here to answer my questions, or just fuck with me some more?"

The man's mouth wavered slightly, "What vibrance lives in you. Something I have not been a witness to for some time. It is… refreshing."

"Fan-fucking-tastic, now, do I get some answers, or not?"

Hephaestus spread his arms in an inviting gesture, "Ask, and it shall be revealed."

Desmond sighed, now that he could, the questions that had been stirring in him, had become fragmented. He took a moment to come up with some semblance of a succinct question, "I, uh… _first things first_, am I … dead?"

"No. Ask if you _were_ dead, and my answer would be different."

"How the hell is this even possible?"

Hephaestus smiled, "I was hoping you would ask that."

He extended his hand, and it hovered over Desmond's forehead. Once again, the cool sensation returned, and the world around him faded from view. Instead Desmond found himself looking upon his crumpled form as Juno walked over it; free. He sat, silent, as his body remained still, the few tendrils of steam still lingered around his arms. Then he saw a flicker of light behind the pedestal. Hephaestus.

His voice echoed between Desmond's ears.

_I waited, watched. I was there as was she. Until she left. I too had watched your journey, Desmond, and realized there was more than I could have fathomed at stake. I lingered in the shadows as she laid the final pieces in place. Refusing to rest, to sleep until you came. . As she watched you across time, I laboured in the darkness. Building, creating, destroying her plans as she laid them out. I had seen the things that were to pass, and I knew what I was tasked with. When you did, your birth brought that same glint to her eyes. I knew something must be done. _

_ I created them to help me. Sentient labourers of unyielding skin, and absence of flesh. They toiled for millennia until it was finished. Then, I began my own task. As I had seen what Juno would attempt, I had the foresight to create a solution, based entirely off of this knowledge. When you delivered the spark, you also set my plan in motion. Instead of destruction, rebirth followed. Did you not notice the pain? The burn? This was my doing. Not to harm, but to help. Delivering your consciousness into the machine is not a painless operation. I would know. _

_Now you swam, perhaps forever had it not been for my intervention, in an endless pool of energy. This Temple holds many solutions. Many possibilities for a future's birth. I had the wisdom of several thousand years' trial and error to guide my hands, as I rejoined you. Made you new. Your, primitive device– the Animus– could be said to have aided my progress. Your mind is malleable, yielding yet firm, unlike the brittle fragility of your kind. Perhaps it is because the machine and you are compatible– seasoned over periods of exposure. Perhaps it is instead your very genetics that fertilized my plan. _

_Now you sit before me, restored; reborn with the gifts I myself hold. In an infant state, true, but you have the potential to face her on equal footing. _

_The Soldier. The Contingency. _

* * *

**A/N Alright, If you are unfamiliar with Hephaestus' story from Mythology, I strongly urge you to read up on it. There are some interesting ties to the other TWCB, ie: Juno, aka Hera was the mother of Hepaestus, and Zeus, aka Tinia, was the father, etc. I'm taking the time to ground this fic in fact as much as possible– taking snippets from the game itself, and actual mythology/history, ie: Hepaestus ACTUALLY was said to have built robot workers, just like those hinted at in the game. Extra points if anyone can figure out where the team is heading. Seriously though, put some thought into where they have their headquarters, and see if you can guess the building!**

**Stay lovely, **

**juno57 **


	3. Underground

**Whew! I can't believe how many follows and faves this story's gotten! Thank you guys so so much for your continued support. Together, we shall have our ending!**

**Read, review, and stay lovely!**

* * *

The van rolled along the darkened street, its headlights turned off in an effort to remain undetected. They pulled up into an abandoned parking lot, where several other vehicles sat void of drivers. Rebecca hopped out of the door and hurried around to open the back. Shaun stepped out and helped her with the heavy latch. William's stern expression greeted them on the other side.

"Couldn't you have oiled this a little more?" William murmured.

"Sorry, I never had time. It was never exactly at the top of our priorities."

He slipped out, and eased the sliding hatch back closed.

"No Rebecca– leave the equipment. We can get a team to retrieve it once we're inside. Let's just focus on getting there."

She nodded, and closed the van's door, locking it with the key securely.

"So… where exactly are we going?

William smiled, "I think you'll like this."

"Oh lord, please tell me they've gotten rid of those."

"Nope. Sorry Shaun." He smiled.

"Gotten rid of what– how the hell does Shaun know everything about HQ, but I don't even know where the hell it is?"

"Because I'm a bloody historian. It's my job to know these things. Can't believe I couldn't see this coming."

William patted Shaun on the back, "Chin up– it's only a few miles."

"But we only have one." Rebecca piped up.

"What?"

"One mile– as in Miles," she was met with silence, "You know, we only have one Miles with us. Too soon I guess…"

Shaun rolled his eyes, "Remind me why we keep you around?"

"Cuz' I'm the best in the business, baby." She winked while passing him.

"On to Broadway then, Bill?"

He smiled, "Correct."

The three paused when the heard the scuff of shoes against the pavement.

"I suggest we leg it, yeah?" Shaun whispered.

He took their nods as mutual agreement.

* * *

Desmond scrunched his eyes shut in an effort to blink away the wash of images still bleeding in front of him. His head throbbed along the seams of his skull, and his breath was ragged. Hephaestus moved closer to him, and waited for Desmond to calm down. His shaking fingers found the tubes in his arms, and pulled them out, wincing at the disconcerting sensation.

"Fuck, what did you do to me?" he mumbled.

"I saved you. Would you prefer I let you die, spent, wasted; an empty husk?"

"Lemme get back to you on that. I still have to figure out what the hell I'm going to do now, and where should even go…" He stared at his feet, trying to fathom the events still racing through his mind.

"Might I suggest we leave this place; I long to leave my prison of millennia. "

"Yeah, that's another thing– just how exactly is Juno… how did she… leave?"

Hephaestus' face flickered as a smile spread across it, "We must be curious things to your kind. You bear our mark, our DNA, surely you must have some sort of comprehension."

"Juno said something about that, yeah, but what exactly does that mean?"

"You are gifted with sight across the times, as are we. This is what has been restored. The sixth."

Desmond paused, his breath caught in his chest at Hephaestus' words, "The sixth?"

"Time."

"That still doesn't answer my question."

"No, I suppose it doesn't, " he chuckled softly, "We exist– Juno and I– in a… digital… state. When we were damned as penance for her actions, we were removed of our bodies. Our physicality. Instead, our damnation turned to salvation when those around us found flesh weak, and easily burned by the ravages of our sun. Technology, my creation, has always been adaptive, _immortal. _From the beginning of our time, we sought to improve, to lengthen our lives." He turned, facing the expanse of the Temple, "This is what I did. Immortality– it seems so…"

"Empty?"

Hephaestus scoffed, "Empty? No– vast, immeasurable. The opportunities are as endless as our life. This is what disturbs me. Her plans must not be allowed to be carried out. "

"Then tell me what I need to do– god knows I have no idea what to do in the mean time."

"Follow me then, Desmond. You may have been the key to her release. But a key has two functions, does it not?"

Desmond halted, and watched Hephaestus' retreating form with curiosity.

_This just never ends, does it?_

* * *

Shaun spat as he walked into a particularly dense cobweb. Arms windmilled in a ridiculously awkward motion of trying to swat the sticky threads away from him.

"Shit, Shaun, watch where you're going!" Rebecca scoffed, her feet faltered on the slick concrete, slipping over the slimy rails that remained on the tunnel's floor. Her ankle twisted, and she tripped onto her knee, "Ow, mother–"

"Classy, Rebecca, as always."

"It was your fault, asshat!"

"Come on, let's not start that again." William sighed, shining his flashlight on Shaun and Rebecca's forms behind him.

"He pushed me– if you weren't such a pus–"

William cleared his throat.

"Sorry– asshole."

Shaun rolled his eyes.

Silence followed, their footstep's echoes the only sound filling the damp tunnel. Patches of mould and moss grew thickly over some areas, where the water dripped plentifully. The only sources of light came from the fluorescent bulbs in their flashlights. A harsh, energy efficient glow hazed all of their surroundings, leaving eerie after images burned into their minds.

"You know how old this thing probably is? I'm guessing mid seventeenth-century, based on the metal work. Probably Free Masons."

"Actually, it's our own. Ever hear of Alfred Beach?"

"Rings a bell, gimme a minute, yeah, … uh… American inventor from the… uh god, I just had it… oh, of course– the inventor from the 1860's, the one who wanted to bring pneumatics to the Big Apple. Things didn't exactly work out for him either, did they?"

William smirked.

"Why do you even know these things, Shaun?" Rebecca whined.

"Same way I imagine you are able to memorize those bloody lines of code."

"Energy drinks and soy-chips?"

"Like I'd be caught dead eating that shit."

William called their attention, "Over here."

They followed wordlessly after sharing a curious look.

He ran his fingers over a broken Assassin symbol formed from iron. The two watched as their mentor re-aligned the points, completing the emblem. A weary grinding sound triggered behind the wall, and William stood back, an easy smile across his lips.

"In through here– this connects us with his tunnels."

"Weren't they demolished in the early nineteen hundreds by the BMT?"

Rebecca parted her lips in inquiry.

"Brooklyn–Manhattan Transit."

She elbowed him, "I knew that– I'm not a total idiot."

"Had me fooled…"

A sharp elbow in his ribs silenced any other quips Shaun had to offer.

"To answer your question Shaun, yes, that's what they tell you. What they neglected to mention was the fact that this "demolishing" was actually a re-fitting of the original line."

"Nothing is true, is it?"

"For once Rebecca, your offhanded comment might be correct."

She grinned, "What are you two geriatrics waiting for?" She shoved them out of the way, and stepped into the dark passage.

"Will that woman ever learn her manners?"

"That might be a question only the Apple can answer."

Shaun snorted softly, and followed William into the tunnel.

* * *

The short damp passage soon opened into a cavernous empty section, lit only with a few bare bulbs suspended from the ceiling. A large Plexiglas tube sat along the edge of the Graffiti covered walls. Despite the openness, the air within the space was much different than in the other areas. The heady, mechanical scent of oil lingered heavily in the air, and clung to the insides of the Assassin's noses.

"Love what you've done with the place, very, uh, off putting– is that what we were going for then, yeah?"

"Shut up Shaun." She turned her gaze to William's pensive face, "So, what? We just follow the tracks until we get to HQ?"

"Not exactly. Just wait a moment." He stepped onto the platform, and entered a small engineer's station in a run-down shanty. There was a hint of radio chatter before he flicked a switch, and murmured into a speaker. Beckoning with his hand, he waved the two over, and they stood behind him in the shanty.

"Do the original pneumatics still work then?"

"They've been refitted several times, and maintenance is constant. However, structurally, they do remain true to the original schematics."

"If that was supposed to be comforting– it's not."

"Come on, don't be such a baby Shaun. We were in a lot worse places that this, most of them underground too."

The whirring sound of rushing air crescendoed, and all three of the team members watched as a lone car slowed to stop in front of the station. The hiss of air leaving the pressurised environment startled Shaun, and Rebecca lurched forward as he bumped her. She whipped her head around, and glared at him.

"Sorry." Shaun mumbled.

"When did you get so jumpy?"

"Come on, we've got a train to catch."

"Really witty this one, eh Bill?"

Rebecca sunk down into the vinyl-covered seat, and waited as the others filed in. William reached up, and secured the hatch with a definitive scrape of the lock. The air around shrieked as it re-pressurized, preparing for its return trip. Shaun looked slightly nervous, and before he had the chance to voice his concerns, found himself being flung back in his seat as the train shot forward into the dimly lit tunnel.

* * *

**See ya on the next one!**

**juno57**


	4. Revelations

**Hey all! Thanks again soo soo much for your continued support! I'm writing this to keep us all happy, so I'm glad I'm not alone in thinking the ending of ACIII was unsatisfactory, (yes it was sad, but in a way I suppose, necessary).**

**Enjoy the next chapter, the next one after this will be longer, I promise!**

**Stay lovely, (and brush up on your ancient Roman mythology)**

**juno57**

* * *

Desmond padded softly behind Hephaestus, the earthen dust on the Temple's floor left imprints of his tread behind. As they continued, Hephaestus' path seemed oblivious to the structural decay around him. Where he climbed a solitary flight of stairs, in the current setting Desmond's free running came into play. In order to keep pace with him, Desmond scrambled, leaping across deep chasms and large gaps hastily.

"Where's the fire?" he panted after several minutes.

"I had forgotten– you cannot walk as I do… my apologies."

"Shit lot of good that'll do me when my legs give out." He mumbled.

Desmond continued scrambling up the fragments of a staircase. His legs burned both from lack of use, and from the marathon climb. He stood for a moment to let his breath return to normal. The erratic heaving of his chest alerted his concern.

"You sure I should be doing this kind of stuff?"

_Why do I feel so out of shape?_

"Your body was dormant for several days. While the mind repaired, the muscles did not."

Desmond's eyes widened.

"Take heart– they will in time."

"When?"

"That is a question which you can answer. Reflect upon it, and you shall see."

"Alright, I've had just about enough of your damn people telling me things in fucking riddles. Just spit it out for god's sake."

"We have fatigued you, this is certain. However, our methods are not yours. In time, I thought, you would come to realize this."

"Well, apparently I haven't." He stopped, and glanced around him, "What did you mean by reflect upon it?"

"Your gifts Desmond, have been restored. What your people refer to as… Eagle vision… you now have other gifts. Time, being one of them."

"I'm going out on a limb here, but I'm guessing I can't alter time in any way, can I?"

Hephaestus smiled weakly, "Time is more durable than we'd like to think. He is extremely stubborn and unyielding. But there is one piece that can affect him. This is where we will go. To them."

"The team?"

"We will need their help, all of them, if we are to snatch the piece out from under her. She will not let anything get in her way until she has done it."

Desmond raised an eyebrow, "I swear you people leave out information on purpose."

He stood for a moment longer, his hands steadying himself against the rock wall. Closing his eyes as Hephaestus indicated, he felt a cool presence flood behind his eyes once again. He saw his father standing with the others outside the van, their expressions grim and downcast. They hurried from their position to a vine covered, crumbled pipe, and disappeared within it. A moment of darkness continued before his vision zoomed out, distorted, as it did before he was ejected from the Animus. The unmistakeable skyline of buildings triggered his memory.

His eyes opened quickly, "Kingston? They're still in New York." His brow furrowed as Hephaestus looked on knowingly.

"What else have you seen?"

"Uh, some sort of tunnel, I think. It was really dark." He gripped tighter against the rock ledge as he felt his vision flutter. "How am I seeing this? Is it a vision?"

"Not a vision, but connection. You share a link as we do with the pieces. They are yours to command if you can reach them. As of now, you see through the Apple. It is your eyes. Your ears. As long as they have it, it is yours to use as you see fit. Let it's knowledge guide your journey."

Weakened, Desmond's knees gave out under him, and his arms scrambled to find purchase on the rocks. His eyes rolled back, and he felt tremors run along his spine. He breathed raggedly for a few seconds; the adrenaline and whatever else his brain had been exposed to seeped through his veins coldly.

"Patience, Desmond. Your body will need to adjust–"

"No shit, Sherlock." He stood slowly, his arms and legs quivered slightly as he did so. His grip on the rocks never faltered, and his knuckles turned white against the contrast of his tanned skin.

After a moment, he raised his head, and cleared his throat, "So, Kingston– I've got to get to Kingston." He paused, his curiosity getting the better of him, "Are you able to leave this place? Like Juno did?"

A forlorn glint in his eyes revealed the sadness behind his smile, " Not in the same sense. My spirit, as you would say, resides here. Until now, I have seen it as my prison. My cage. Now, I am free to move among the machines, to experience that which you do. Come, I will show you the piece you must take."

* * *

The cool metal-esque material weighed heavily in Desmond's hand. Unlike all other pieces, this one in particular felt different in his hands; majestic and resplendent.

_Not your run of the mill piece of Eden._

He turned the hammer over, glancing at its intricacies. A series of meticulous spirals and curves ran regulated over its handle, sweeping into the peak of the long forked head. Instead of a large chunk of cumbersome metal, an elegant stilettoed tip crested a smooth line across it.

"I've never seen one like this before." He glanced up, brow furrowed. The expression on Hephaestus' face almost seemed… proud, "Did you… make these?"

Hephaestus shifted his weight, leaning against his tall staff, "I was gifted with many abilities. However, my mother did not see this until it fitted her purposes."

Bitterness had seeped into his last words, and Desmond nodded slowly at the silence that followed.

"You're not like them– your mother, even the others. You know… you're more… I dunno… human?"

Hephaestus snorted quietly, "I suppose you mean that as a compliment." He shifted his weight again, almost wincing as his bad foot took the brunt of the load.

"We should probably get, er, I should get going. I've got a long way to go, considering I have no transportation."

Hephaestus nodded solemnly, "Yes, enough lamentation." Outstretching his arm, his fingers hovered above the piece, its handle rippled with a glow, "Use this when you need me – reflect within yourself, and I will answer. Like Minerva, Juno, Tinia; you too share the power to speak. Not across time– no, but distance. Explore its powers with the others. They too will want to know, to understand its workings."

Hephaestus stepped back, "And now, I leave you, Desmond, for I too have preparations to make. My labourers need instruction, just as I need give it."

"So, it was you then– your plan stopped the crisis?"

"The towers could not save us, we had not the time. My imprisonment allowed for little other pursuits, and so I strove to save your kind. The towers rest here, awakened from their slumber. My labourers have seen to every detail's completion, and they have served their purpose. Now we must start another. Perhaps I will be as successful with this one, as with the last. We must hope it is so."

Desmond watched as yet another ancient phantom gradually faded from view. He shook his head in mild amusement before turning his back on the Grand Temple, the faint fingers of lingering daylight guided him out into the world.

* * *

**A/N **

**As I said before, this one was really short**

**But hey, at least I updated :P**


	5. Arrival

**Hey all! **

**You guys have been AMAZING! I'm seriously in awe of the amount of follows, faves, and reviews I've been getting :P**

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**ahem.**

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* * *

The pneumatic car slowed to a halt the slow whoosh of the surrounding air gradually subsided as it slid next to the platform. The latch holding the door in place snapped open, and the lights against the door switched from a dull amber to green. William pulled against the handle, and the door popped open with a loud exhalation.

"Alright, let's get moving."

The team shuffled slowly out of the car; Shaun ducked at the last moment narrowly avoiding smacking his head off of the low door. They scampered onto the platform, following the gas lamps that dotted the corridor.

"Shit– I can't believe we're actually here!" Rebecca exhaled breathily.

Shaun snorted, but her smile remained.

"I hope you'll be addressing the others with a bit more tact, Rebecca. I guess it is a good thing that you work mainly with computers, and not real people."

"Bite me Shaun."

William groaned softly, "You two sound more and more like an elderly couple."

"Nice try Bill, but I doubt we'd even make it to our first anniversary." Shaun scoffed.

"Amen to that." She smirked.

The lamp-lit path ended abruptly at two large wooden doors, the intricacies of the carvings gave off a reverent mystique. Within the carvings, the unmistakable sharp apex of the Assassin's symbol stood out against the softer, more organic shapes around it. William stood waiting by the contrastingly new biometric scanner. His foot tapped softly against the stone floor as it completed the verification. A soft ping, and green light prompted the doors to open, and three armed guards with it.

The grinning man in the centre stepped forward, his hand extended, "William, sir– it's good to see you back in one piece." A round of congratulations followed, and several other expectant team leaders flowed in to greet the team.

William shook his hand with a sombre smile, " Stephan." He nodded curtly at the others, "If you don't mind," his voice rose to address the congregation, "we've had a time and a half at the Grand Temple, as you must imagine. I'm sure we will have more than enough time to discuss the events tomorrow. For now, however, I'd like to speak with Gavin before settling in for the night." He smiled softly as the others nodded; the occasional hand patted him on the shoulder or arm as they made their way in.

* * *

Rebecca paced outside the doors, behind which William and Gavin conversed. Her footsteps were hardly muffled by the thick decorative rug beneath her. Shaun sat on the window ledge, looking down on the cityscape 20 stories below him.

"Rebecca, you're nauseating me."

"You're not even looking this way."

"I can hear you walking– anyone bloody could." He turned to look her in the eyes, "Look, just– why don't you sit down and wait. He won't be too much longer."

She snorted as she walked over to him, sinking down heavily, "That's what you said half an hour ago."

The city's lights bled in tiny pinpricks against the darkness of night. Shaun sighed heavily, closing his eyes wearily. The weight of Rebecca's hand on his shoulder stirred him, and he opened them again. She smiled weakly; the dull glint of understanding in her eyes. She rested her head against his shoulder and sighed heavily. Acting out of instinct, Shaun sighed in response.

"Do you wanna talk? Cuz if not, that's fine– I don't really know if I do myself."

Shaun let out a tired snort, "Glad to see some things never change." He paused, staring down at the smooth terrazzo floor, "To put it as eloquently as you said, I don't really know either." He frowned slightly, "If we talk about it, I don't know, I suppose then we have to acknowledge those feelings. And that, my dear, is never easily done. I suppose I'm more shocked than anything."

"I know– it just seems so… I dunno, " she smirked sadly, "unfair."

"He must have known what he was getting into– he wouldn't have just done it without a reason."

"Saving the world kinda is a pretty hard argument to win against. I think he knew that."

"Of course he did– and I'm sure what we're doing now is exactly what he's expecting us to. Counting on us to do."

"What exactly are we doing?" She sat up, looking at him, eyebrow raised.

Shaun cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well, um, I don't know– that's not my job… William is in charge of logistics now– I'm sure that's what he's doing right now."

"I'm so fucking tired of waiting around– I feel useless."

"Well, I'm sure if this was a computer problem, you'd already have it fixed by now."

"Shaun, you should stick to snark– your motivational speeches need some serious work. "

He frowned, "Whatever, I suppose this is what I deserve for trying to be helpful for once. Karma and all that."

Rebecca chuckled, and leaned against Shaun again. He placed his hand on her arm reassuringly, and turned to look out on the city once again.

* * *

Desmond sat in the car, his knees tucked up close to his soaking wet body. He set his jaw in an effort to avoid his teeth clacking together audibly, and pulled his legs closer with his arms.

"Do you want me to turn up the heat?" the driver asked, his brow furrowed more so at the sight of Desmond's wet, muddy shoes on his leather seat.

He bit back every sarcastic comment that presented itself, "That would be great."

Desmond barely managed to avoid rolling his eyes as the man turned up the heat by one notch, _Shit– better watch it there big spender– I might even start to feel my fuckin' nose._

He rested his head on the window, the looming skyline of the city still fairly far off. He sighed and held his chilled fingers over the air vent in front of him. The faintest breath of hot air teased his fingers, and he placed them directly over the vent in an effort to absorb as much of it as possible. He ignored the frown on the driver's face, and closed his eyes as the sound of rain pelted again off the car.

A swirl of colours swelled behind his eyes, and his brow furrowed as he tried to get them to converge. As his concentration mounted, an image began to form, slowly but surely. The dark tones shaped into some sort of passageway, the accents of lighter colours illustrating the bricks that formed walls.

_That tunnel again– why do I have to go… is someone sending me these images? Or is it like Hephaestus said, and this is… my own doing. Okay, so, there was their van, in some parking lot near a fence with vines. Then… shit– and I thought remembering dreams was hard. _

As his memory jogged, the image of the parking lot formed overtop of the tunnel, and clarified until it stood as realistic as a photograph. He hardly dared to breathe, as he saw the scene expand, until it filled every inch of his vision. His thoughts indicated a glance to the left, and his view swivelled the same increment he had thought. _Alright– that's pretty sweet. _

He spun his view 360 degrees, marvelling at this newfound ability. He indicated his desire to walk forward, and to his amazement, his view once again paired to his thoughts. His heart picked up as the adrenaline coursed through his body, and found that the cold numbness was no longer the only thing he felt. The vines along the fence parted as his disembodied hand pushed them up. The dark hole leading to the tunnel lay before him, and he began to slide down into it.

* * *

A rough nudge interrupted his explorations, and Desmond's eyes opened quickly. He blinked a few times as the images before his eyes quickly bled away. He turned quickly in the direction the disturbance came from.

The driver's eyes were cautiously wide, "You alright buddy?"

"Yeah– uhm fine– thanks. " Desmond replied, glancing around him as he took in the downtown of New York City.

The driver cleared his throat awkwardly, "Well, like I said, this is my stop– my office." the man grabbed his briefcase from uner Desmond's feet, and wiped it off with annoyance.

"Oh, sorry." He unbuckled his seatbelt and stood in the street. He adjusted the strap of his backpack, and stood for a moment to collect his thoughts before turning to leave.

"Hey buddy– aren't you forgetting something?" The driver's hand was held out, his eyebrow raised.

_Fuck. I don't think I have any cash– let alone the amount I need to pay for a five hour hitch-hike, excluding tolls. _

"Yeah, just a sec." he swung his backpack around and off his shoulder, his fingers slipped into the main section where they found what they were looking for.

_It's for a good cause. _

He felt a flare behind his eyes, and the world flickered pleasantly for a second. A warmth stemming from his hand began to flow through his veins. He watched the Apple's radius expand until the man stood directly in line with its reach.

Desmond's gaze rested on the man, who still stood with an annoyed expression. _Forget my face._

Desmond felt a sudden surge of power rip from his veins, and he hunched over as if someone had punched him in the stomach. The man's expression fell blank for a second before he blinked several times, and glanced around him. His eyes fell on Desmond's recovering form, and his face scrunched up.

"This city just keeps getting worse. Can't even park without being harassed by some tripped-out junkie."

The man turned and walked into the office building, missing the smirk that played at the edge of Desmond's lips.


	6. Reunion

**Hey all! Sorry for the lag between updates, I've been involved with the Senior Production at school, so all my spare time has been eaten up!**

**Here's the next chapter, new one will be up soon!**

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**Stay lovely, **

**juno57**

Ubisoft owns.

* * *

The makeshift cot sagged as William sat wearily down on it. The antiquated springs groaned as his full weight rested upon them. The slight patter of rain echoed off the walls of the sparely furnished room. Eyes closed he lay back; the drain of fatigue and the internal emotional maelstrom that raged unguarded finally broke through his resolve. His brow arched in an agitated array of lines as the first tear slid down his face. He soon heard his own muffled, garbled sounds reverberating around the small room. He expected the ache to go, to finally leave after he had addressed it. Instead, he found that it had only grown.

Completely vulnerable he lay with arms splayed; his face a portrait of every feeling, every curse that had longed to be given a voice since witnessing his son's sacrifice.

_God, why couldn't it have been me? After all he'd fucking been through– to be rewarded with death. For all his efforts, his frustration and stubbornness, he never got to see the end result. _

_That's not what he deserved. No one deserves that curse. _

_I don't even know what to think anymore. If I should let her know, I'm sure it would only be worse if I kept it from her. Shit, this is our son after all. I should have let him say something, leave a message, an email, anything. Didn't want to risk it. Thought that if I played it safe, I could limit the casualties. Turns out I'm in control of just about nothing. At the very least, although it hardly makes up for our relations before– we at least made peace, for however many hours he had left. Perhaps if we had found the Temple sooner, or we had worked harder before, lost a few more teams instead of spending man-hours on backup. _

_Who am I to say that one death is more justified than the other._

He turned his head over, glancing out the window at the rainy darkness punctuated by dots of light. He swallowed, trying to calm himself down from his episode. He took a long, shaky breath, and exhaled slowly. The wetness of his tears had collected in his pillow, and he ignored the urge to flip it over. With a shiver, he lifted the thin blankets over him, not bothering to kick his shoes off. As much as he pushed against it, his thoughts returned to the arguments of his splintered emotions.

_I never realized how much I'd actually missed him. Of course, when he ran away, that hurt– a lot. I wasn't allowed to show any emotion. Treat it like betrayal he'd said to me. Yes, it's your son, but he's also abandoned you. Abandoned the Brotherhood. Can't say that fucker's passing saddens me too greatly. _

William felt the tight grip around his heart as he recalled the few pleasant memories of Desmond's childhood. The slow ache returned, wiping the bittersweet smile from his lips, and replaced it with a downcast sadness. Their arguments, the yelling, the punches, the threats. These were the things that stood strongest in his memory. He felt the wet heaviness collecting around his eyes, and he wiped his hand across them angrily.

_Hindsight's a bitch… if I only could have , I don't know, listened more. But was it really my fault? _

_Of course it was, maybe if I'd been the one who– no I can't think like that. Destructive thoughts won't help him now. Won't help us either. _

_Godammit– why the hell'd it have to be him…_

He tossed and turned with every circular argument, his mind eventually gracing him with the blessing of sleep. His brow lifted as he lost consciousness, accepting the relief his dreams could offer. If only it were dreams that waited for him.

* * *

The faint glow of Rebecca's computer screen managed to bleed through Shaun's eyelids, no matter how he contorted himself.

"Would you turn that bloody thing off, Rebecca? There are people trying to get some sleep around here, in case you didn't notice."

"What? Did you say something? I've got my headphones on."

Shaun winced at the decibel of her answer, and covered his head with his solitary pillow. _This woman will be the end of me. _

Quiet pops echoed in the room as Rebecca twisted her back around and groaned softly when she had finished. A heavy sigh left her nostrils as she set about her next several hours of work. Her fingers danced across the keys as she sent several email with status updates to their sister teams across Europe. Her eyes blinked irregularly in the low light, and she stopped several times to rub the ache out of them.

She stopped in her typing, and slipped one side of her headphones off her ear, "Did you say something?"

Shaun remained motionless in his cocoon of sheets.

"Shaun. Shaaaauuun."

He mumbled something unintelligible.

Her heel slammed into his shin squarely, "I know you're not asleep. Stop pretending."

"Owww– what the hell was that for?" He grabbed his glasses from his dresser in an effort to defend himself from any other attacks Rebecca's feet might launch.

"Baby."

"Oh, I like that– a nice bit, uh bit of sass right, first thing when I wake up."

"It's not sass, and you weren't sleeping."

He frowned at her growing smirk, "Alright, well, now that I'm up, what was it you insisted on waking me for?"

"I thought you asked me something."

"I don't believe you. No– I don't have to put up with this; I'm going to bed."

"Wow, alright then sir grumpy pants."

"Sir?"

"You're English."

"That's racist."

"You're racist."

Shaun expelled a heavy sigh, "Goodnight– for the final time."

Rebecca snickered as he rolled over, further burying himself in the covers.

* * *

Desmond grunted as he slid down the old concrete drainpipe and landed roughly on the tunnel's uneven floor. He took a moment to adjust to his new surroundings, and pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt the flicker of eagle vision. As his eyelids opened, he tensed for a second, mouth slightly agape as he took in his surroundings. Left in a series of after-images, the tunnel held the texture of a three-dimensional collage. He could make out the traces of his father, Shaun, and Rebecca as they had travelled down its corridor. Instead of the dull blue tones and hazy blur, he saw around him a clear, vibrant display that expanded into every inch of his vision. Perfectly synchronized to every movement of his eyes and head, this matured eagle vision acted as a veritable aid instead of a mere helping hand. Desmond searched through the streams of information that filtered through his mind. He noticed a slow but strong tingling sensation in his left hand, and he looked down, eyes widening as he saw the pulsing glow of pale light under the skin again. His eyes traced the cycle of foreign patterns, and raised his hand experimentally.

_This just gets weirder and weirder…_

He felt a surge through his arm as he raised it, the pulsing light quickened to a frantic cycle. Shaken as to what exactly was going on, he pivoted his hand, and moved his arm in an effort to stop whatever was exactly transpiring. His hand had been left in a ninety-degree angle, his fingers fanned out defensively; the pulsing stopped, and Desmond's eyes flicked worriedly from his arm to the movement before his eyes.

The ghost of voices ricocheted off the walls, and he wiped his head around in time to see the three team members hurriedly walking through the subterranean path. His lips parted, as he followed in the imprints of their footsteps, grinning at just what exactly his newfound abilities entailed.

* * *

A soft knock on the door interrupted Rebecca's fitful sleep.

"Just a sec."

William's worry lined face met her tired gaze as she opened the door.

"Oh, I… come in Bill."

"Thank you. I… I've been thinking a lot over the past few hours when sleep refused to come."

"I think we're all in the same boat."

A mournful smile passed over his features, "I think we should hold a brief service for Desmond. I–"

Rebecca's eyes grew wide at the broken spirit she saw in front of her, "Are… sure. I think that's a good idea. I mean… we don't have the bo– um… that doesn't matter."

"You're not helping Rebecca, " Shaun interjected from the doorway, "you know, this is sort of hard enough for all of us, without you bringing up the image of his remains."

"You know what I–"

"Shaun, Rebecca, it's okay. She was only trying to help. I think."

"Of course I was." She smiled back to William.

"The archive chamber is free right now if you want."

"I'd prefer that we don't do this in any place reminiscent of where he is now. Perhaps if we went up to the roof… Desmond always did enjoy the view of a city at night."

Rebecca smiled sadly as he watched the haze of reminiscence form in William's gaze, "Alright, let's go then." She placed a hand on his shoulder, and coaxed him out of his reverie.

* * *

Desmond's lungs ached as he approached the torchlight doorway of the Assassin's headquarters. He fell to his knees, panting, until he caught his breath again.

_If that fucking pneumatic train – or whatever the hell it was– had worked. I didn't think I'd have to sprint 20 blocks!_

He stood on shaky legs, and pushed against the heavy wooden doors, feeling them completely unyielding under his best efforts to open them. He frowned, and flexed his left hand around, turning back the image of the three team members walking up to the very door in front of him, and entering.

_This doesn't make any sense- this is the right place, isn't it?_

Out of desperation, he knocked loudly against the door, yelling out a greeting after a few moments of silence.

The door opened to reveal several disgruntled security guards. Desmond balked for a moment before realizing the insignia on all of their uniforms.

"Hey, uh, I'm one of you–" he folded his ring finger on his left hand down, "See, uh… have a little faith…?"

The lead guard stopped, her eyes suddenly growing absurdly wide with recognition.

"…You?!"

* * *

The slow melody of pings echoed in the small elevator car, punctuating the silence ever few seconds. As the door parted, and the cloudy, unsettled inky darkness of New York's skyline opened before them, a melancholy remembrance settled in each of the three's minds. They stopped at the edge of the building, all enraptured in the hypnotic quality of the city's lights.

"So… who wants to start?" Rebecca murmured.

"I will," William answered, his voice holding strong despite the bitter sadness in his eyes, " Son, I… I didn't think I'd ever have to do this. I… realize how hard it was for you, for all of us. No one truly deserved anything that happened, but that's in the past… I suppose with time these wounds will also heal."

He paused for a lingering moment, the waver in the last few words emphasizing the internal struggle he was fighting.

His lips smiled for a brief second, even reaching his eyes for the most fleeting moment, "You always wanted to have something special happen to you. You were an amazing young man… and no matter what you may think, or what I… we've argued about… I have always loved you – always been proud to call you my son."

"Well, except for the time he threw the wet barn cats into your office, eh Bill?" Rebecca nudged William.

His face broke through his serious expression, "Yes… well perhaps not that exact moment."

The three enjoyed their brief light-hearted laugh, despite the lingering weight of nostalgia.

The loud squawk of a two-way radio broke through the moment's thin veneer, the voice on the other side requesting William's attention in a very urgent tone.

"Dammit, I thought I left that in my room –" he snapped. "What is it ? I'm in the middle of something very important– I said I wasn't to be interrupted!"

"I… uh.. I'm truly sorry sir, but I– this…

"Who in the world could be so damn important? Did someone die or something?"

"Uh… well… it's Desmond – he's here to see you."

Their faces all bore the exact same incredulous expression, a breathless silence enveloped them all.

"…Sir?"

The elevator doors squeaky hinges opening broke through their stunned silence, and they all slowly turned to see if what they had been furtively hoping for was true.

* * *

Desmond regarded them all with a raised eyebrow, "What are you guys doing up here?" his question was met with a gasp from Rebecca, "Looks like I actually did end up being late for my own funeral, huh dad?"

Shaun's legs crumpled underneath of him, leaving the others in a completely shocked silence as Desmond looked on, slightly amused at the absurdity of it all.


	7. Settling In

**Hey all!**

**Sorry for the slight delay– I've been working on a fairly large project for Writer's Craft, (I'll hopefully be uploading it to Circalit, under the same name as on FF if you are interested lovelies :D), but I handed it in today, and I give you not one, but TWO new chapters that I'm uploading tonight :)**

**Yay productivity!**

**Thanks soooo much for your continued support– you guys make me smile every day :3**

**BTW– If you haven't checked out Assassin's Creed Initiates– SERIOUSLY DO SO!**

**I try to tie some of the events into the plot of this piece, so be sure to follow the official cannon as well as my fic!**

**Read, review and repeat. **

**Stay lovely, **

**juno57**

* * *

The sudden, unexpected flare under her skin startled her to her knees.

_No– Impossible! This can't_…_ how?_

Streams of data flooded behind her eyes; her brow furrowed deeply.

_Hephaestus. _

Gritting her teeth, she rose back to her inhuman height, eyes closed.

_He was made to be a sacrifice. A necessary offering for what was done. And now the son- my son– would see it all wasted_.

Her hands clenched into fists. A spinning globe flickered in front of her.

The longer her eyes continued to flicker over the points of data, the deeper her scowl grew.

_He has touched it– why does he still lie out of sight? There are no shadows for him to hide in. None which shall hide him fr–_

Her eyes grew wide.

_My son– what have you done? Your lacking comprehension for your actions will serve consequence to his life._

_I can no longer promise a painless end. _

* * *

The brief moment of breathless, incredulous silence was broken by Rebecca's strangled cry of excitement and heartbreak. Desmond felt himself knocked back by the force of her hug, and he returned it with the same urgency. As her choked breaths muffled against his chest, he felt the weight of a hand on his shoulder. The grief-stricken grey eyes of his father met his, and Desmond felt a more potent form of the all-too familiar heartache splinter further into him. Gently prying Rebecca away from him, he sent her over to Shaun, who had managed to recover from his episode. The sudden, needy embrace of his father brought a tightness into his throat, and he struggled to force the words out.

His father clutched him tightly, fingers gripped into the material of his hoodie, afraid to let go once again. After finally managing to repair their dysfunctional-at-best relationship, he had watched as his son selflessly allowed himself to be burned in the place of their planet. Now he stood before them, tangible, and in the flesh. By some miracle or some elevated innovation, his son was made whole again.

Giving the final farewell to a child is one hardship that in itself, is punishment enough for the sins of one's life. Is the heart even strong enough to bear having the child returned, after barely coming to terms with his passing?

No words had managed to be exchanged, only short, quiet sobs. Father and son's roles were reversed, as Desmond held his father up in their embrace, trying to hold himself together when his father couldn't. The quiet of the night air held only the distant sounds of the city, and the quiet echoes of their bittersweet reunion.

* * *

Rebecca tugged against Shaun's sweater, looking up from her position against the dampened fabric.

"We should give them a moment…"

He nodded silently, swallowing back his own shakiness, and led her over to the building's ledge. They sat together in one of the only dry spots, overlooking the depths below. The streetlights blinked, and the sounds of impatient drivers fell on deaf ears and blind senses. Shell shocked, they clutched each other for support; moral, emotional, physical. Rebecca allowed her stinging eyes to close, and her head rested against his wet sweater again. Comforting fingers brushed through her hair once; his words transformed into gesture to convey phrases he couldn't voice.

* * *

The eternity ended as both men pulled away, William's arms remained in their firm hold on his arms. The redness in his eyes hurt Desmond; to see weakness, the brokenness in his father pained him. All the thoughts he wished to express to him seemed to surface, scrambling to be first to get a voice. His father's curiosity finally got the better of him, and he beat Desmond to a collected thought.

"You... I thought you–"

"I was."

His father winced, nearly imperceptibly, at his confirmation. Despite standing before him, Desmond knew that what had happened would never be erased from their memories.

"I saw the smoke… I watched… she stood there, while your arms burned–"

"Why didn't you just run?"

His eyes fell, glassy and forlorn at the memory, "I had to know."

William paused, fingers squeezed tighter into Desmond's arms until he moved them to avoid being hurt.

William stared at him, "Why son? You didn't even think…you just–"

"There was nothing to think about! Should I have let the world burn? You want to live in the middle ages again?"

"With time, we would have learned again just as we did; another Renaissance–"

Desmond scoffed, "That's no way to live. To go that far back, after seeing how far we've come?" He shook his head once, "It was my choice. I knew what had to be done. And honestly, I was done with people making my decisions for me."

The honest fatigue in his voice hit home, and William nodded silently. A faint smile graced his lips as he looked back up to his son. He hugged him again, briefly– a gesture of welcoming, and forgiveness.

"Not that I think we ever will, but the past is behind us, and we should forget… try to forget."

Desmond nodded, stepping out of the released embrace.

"Not to burden you, but we still have Juno to ta–"

"Later dad… I–"

"I understand. I'm sorry. I guess I'm just trying to go about doing things as they used to be." He patted Desmond firmly on the shoulder, " You'll let me know when you're ready to get back into it."

"It's not that– I am ready. Just… it's been a lot for one night."

His father smiled, nodding tersely.

Desmond turned around, taking in the huddled blob made up by a cold Shaun and Rebecca.

"Hey– why don't you guys come back over here? I appreciate your respect and all… not that I'm used to getting any – but I think my dad might grow an ovary or two if you leave us here alone."

Behind him his father snorted, muttering something about some things never changing.

He watched the two of them stand, and approach, "I didn't come all this way just for him to get all mushy on me."

Rebecca smiled briefly, "I know I'm stating the obvious," she cast a glance at Shaun, "but we've– I've really missed you."

Desmond felt his lips mirroring her grin, "That's just because no one gets your sense of humor but me." His remark was met with a brief chorus of laughter.

"We should head inside," William cleared his throat, "It looks like there's another storm coming."

"…And I could really use some sleep. Being dead, shockingly, isn't as restful as you'd think."

Shaun groaned as the elevator doors closed, "He's back… fantastic."

A bony elbow in his ribs forced him into regretting ever voicing his opinions with Rebecca nearby.

* * *

The soft plush embrace of three pillows enveloped Desmond's face, and he moaned contentedly. His feet fumbled with his shoes, and they fell abruptly to the floor with loud slaps. The air's coolness prompted him to zip his hoodie up, and he shrugged his shoulders back against the tighter fit. Ignoring the covers beneath him, his fatigue overpowered his logic, and his eyes slid closed.

Despite his exhaustion, he lay, waiting for sleep to silence his mind. He tried to ignore the creaking of the wind against the old window frame and the incessant droplets of rain that splattered and trickled down the pane. He inhaled deeply, subconsciously taking the luxurious breath because he could. Breathing, after all, had not been placed on his list of things he missed doing.

What he had missed, was everything else. Generally. He had missed people, of course; his father, his mother– to whom he hadn't even gotten a chance to say goodbye. He had missed feeling. Feeling anything at all; although, in one sense, he wouldn't really have missed anything. He wasn't conscious to make this observation.

He rolled over, sliding his arm into the coolness under the pillow. His brow furrowed as the delight of sleep continued to elude him.

_Lucy– I missed the most. I thought I'd finally get to see her again… maybe… I don't even know what to believe anymore. _

He shifted to his back, eyes opening slowly as the ceiling materialized.

_If things had ended differently... would it have been better? Shit– I wouldn't want to live in another dark age. _

_I just wish I could have saved just one other person. _

_Why do things happen the way they do?_

Slowly, gradually Desmond felt the ebb and drift of sleep at the edges of his mind. His eyes slid shut little by little, and his head slumped against the pillow.

* * *

**Onwards!**


	8. Explanations

For the first time in months, Desmond awoke feeling well rested, and free of any plaguing nightmares. His back popped satisfyingly as he stretched, and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed. The old springs groaned under the transfer of weight, and he inhaled deeply. A small slip of paper under his door caught his attention, curiosity prompting him to pick it up.

_I swear, if Rebecca's pulling another prank… I suppose she's just trying to–_

A small smile spread across his lips as he read the text.

_Desmond,_

_Hope you've had a good sleep– god knows you needed one. If you get this, then you were asleep when Shaun and Rebecca went to check on you. We're done with breakfast, but just swing by the kitchen on R1, and they'll find you something I'm sure. We'll be meeting on the fifth floor once you've finished, we'd all enjoy hearing your story from all of this._

_Glad to have you back son,_

_William_

He folded the note back up, tossing gently onto his bedside table. After brushing his hands over his raffish hair, he walked out of his room over to the elevators. As he waited in front of them, he rolled his shoulders back, feeling the familiar, reassuring weight of his backpack around him.

After stopping briefly to grab a mug of black coffee and an apple, Desmond made his way through the doors of the large conference room. Through the ornate wooden double doors, the turn of the century style enveloped the room in the charm of yester year; halcyon.

"Desmond– glad you joined us." His father smiled warmly.

"Sorry I slept in so late, I guess I needed to."

"Yeah, well, at least you don't snore so loud the people across the hall can hear it. I'm not naming names or anything." Rebecca shot a glare at Shaun.

"Wha–? I.. uh.. allergies. I couldn't breathe properly. Not my fault."

"Sure Shaun. Allergies."

Desmond snickered, "Alright, so what are we talking about?"

"You, actually." William fiddled with the pen he held in his hand, "Why don't you grab a seat, and you can explain this business to us all."

"Sure," Desmond rolled a chair up to the table, nodding at a few other senior Assassins who sat along one side of the table with his father, "Do we want to do introductions first?"

"Oh– I'm sorry. I completely forgot– Desmond, this is Eveline, she worked briefly with Hannah, and Cross.

"It really wasn't the strongest point in my career," she said flushing ever so slightly, "I'm just glad he didn't do more damage to our teams."

"Right."

"And this is Franz Schlemmer, one of our leaders from Northern Europe. With him, Sofia Getz, and Petrov Lisovskii, some of our best operatives."

Desmond smiled and greeted each in turn, "Where's Harlan?"

"He's still in Italy at the moment. Abstergo still has a rather large headquarters there, and we need to be keeping tabs on them. He'll be joining us– digitally speaking." He indicated the laptop in front of him.

"It's secure?"

Rebecca grinned, "Yup– I've checked and double checked. No one's getting through my firewalls. Even if they do, it'll be a wild goose chase for them to track the server bounce-backs."

"Great. Um, alright. So… I guess you want to know what… happened after, uh, after I died."

William nodded along the others.

Desmond inhaled deeply, "I'm not really sure how to describe it. I was laying there one minute, watching my vision fade, feeling my skin burn. Then… it's just a jumble of… broken memories. Fragments of… I don't know… I can't really remember those bits." William watched with slight concern pulling at his brow, "I do recall waking up– I suppose that's what I'd call it– and there was this… man standing over me. At the time, I had no idea who it was… but–"

"Was it another one of them? Those Who Came Before?" Eveline asked.

"Yeah, later on, when I recovered, he talked to me, about Juno, about how he'd been trapped inside the Temple too. It was her fault her own son was damned along with her."

"Bitch."

"For once, I agree with Rebecca." William quipped, chuckling along with the others.

"Hang on a minute… Juno's son…Hephaestus? _The_ Hephaestus?"

"Yeah, what's so exciting?"

"Well, I'm sorry, it's not every day the most brilliant inventor of ancient technology gives your life a little ol' dues ex machina you know?"

Desmond smirked, "He really was interesting– completely different than the others. More, human I guess. If that's even possible."

"I can't believe you met Hephaestus. Did he use that name specifically? Because, that's Greek. All the others seem to prefer their Roman names."

"I know what you're saying, but that's how he introduced himself. I mean, he listed off his other names, Vulcan, Mulciber–"

"Vulcan?! If I could choose between Heff–whatever, and Vulcan, I sure as hell wouldn't choose one that sounds like a sneeze. Live long and prosper, bitches."

"He's not talking about _that _Vulcan. For god's sake Rebecca, the adults are talking here if you don't mind, yeah?"

Rebecca gave him the finger with one hand, while making a certain particular Vulcan's hand sign with the other.

Desmond watched them with mild amusement; the other Assassins around the table shifted uncomfortably, "Anyways…. As I was saying, Hephaestus, or Vulcan, or whatever the hell you want to call him– he was the one who saved me. I have no idea what exactly he did, I'm just glad as hell that he did whatever he did."

"So, you're completely recovered?" Petrov inquired

Desmond smirked, "I suppose you could say that. There were a few after-effects however."

"Oh?"

"I'm sure my dad has explained about my… Eagle vision. I started to get its symptoms after my exposure to the Animus. After what Hephaestus did… he said that my DNA had been restored. That he'd 'given back what was taken' or something like that."

"Sooo… what? You can see through walls?""No Rebecca, not exactly. I can however, seem to alter some aspects of time. Now, before you all start asking me about time travel, I only mean that I can see things that happened in the past, like, after images, or… recordings of things that happened before. Like when I was tracking you guys, in the tunnels I could see you running through them ahead of me, and I could freeze the imprint, or 'rewind' it essentially."

"This could give us quite the leg up." William declared, "And Juno isn't aware of this?"

"Well, I have no way of knowing. I don't know if she perceives me any differently, so I can't say for sure."

Eveline indicated to Desmond, "Well, either way, any Templars should be worried with what I've heard about him so far."

"I'd love to take the credit, but it's all genetics."

"Of course. I'm sure you understand what I mean. We're all very glad to have you back. "

Reaching into his backpack, Desmond pulled out the Piece of Eden Hephaestus had given him. Around him the others watched in reverent amazement as the metal interacted with

his touch, the same blue cycle of light pulsing under the skin on his forearm.

"And you brought me a present after all." Shaun breathed, eyes fixed on the Hammer.

William looked puzzled, "Another piece? This one looks completely different than the others we've studied."

Franz accepted it from Desmond's hand, "Yes, much more complex – these patterns here, almost resemble those found in Norse culture."

"What does it do?" Sofia asked.

"I have no idea." Desmond snorted, "Hephaestus gave it to me, and told me that I could use it to talk to him. Whatever that entails, I'm not sure either. I thought we could try to

research, I dunno, maybe the Apple could help us out."

"Is it safe to use two pieces in conjunction?" Sofia questioned, handing the Hammer to William.

"I don't see why not. Desmond, what do you think?"

"He never said I couldn't. The only way I see that we could possibly learn anything, would be to use their own technology."

"Well I feel appreciated."

"No offence Shaun, but your databases are no match for a Piece of Eden."

"Ungrateful sods."

Desmond placed the Hammer back into his backpack, zipping it securely. He stood along with the others, preparing to venture back to his room.

William staggered in his seat, "Oh– one last thing since we're all here. Rebecca, have you had any further contact from Erudito? Friendly or otherwise?"

She shook her head, "It's been quiet on their end. Whatever they were up to, they seem to have gone dark for the time being." William nodded. "Do you want me to pursue them?I mean, I could send a–"

"No, I don't. For the time being, let's just wait for them to make the first move."

"Who's Erudi– wait, the guy who sent me the email passwords, right?"

"Guys, actually. But yes, the very same." Rebecca grinned, "Hackers extraordinaire. God, I wish I had his skill."

"Him?"

"There's gotta be someone running the show. Sure, he's working with others, but they've gotta have some direction. Someone to keep them on track and anonymous."

"Yeah, but I mean, you're… nearly as good as him, aren't you?" Shaun quipped.

"Sure, but I mean– he's untraceable. 'Cept when he wants you to find him. Then it's just a matter of following the breadcrumbs."

"You code monkeys–"

"Code monkeys? What the hell Shaun?" Rebecca laughed.

"Are we done here then?"

"Well Desmond, you tell us. We're not sure where we should go from here. I've called my colleagues here, so we can create a game plan for the coming months. Did Hephaestus tell you anything which could give us an idea as to what she's planning?"

"No, but I can." Desmond smiled. Deftly he pulled out the Hammer, closing his eyes as the metal rippled with energy under his fingers, his arm pulsing in time, filling the room with a faint blue luminescence.

**Dun, dun, dun!**

**Alrighty, let me know how I'm doing– I needed to introduce some OC's, because I couldn't find any other surviving modern-day Assassins other than Harlan. Eveline, one OC, worked with Hannah and Cross, but managed to escape along with a few other from that team during the Great Purge: I thought it might be neat to tie Daniel's story into Desmond's, like ACIII did.**

**Any-who, if I've screwed up, or missed something glaringly obvious, give me a (friendly) reprimand!**

**I aim to please :P**

**Stay lovely,**

**juno57**


	9. Game Plan

**Hey all! **

**Sorry for the delay– however, I am now on holiday, so updates (should) come sooner :D**

**I'm really truly grateful for all the attention you've been bestowing my fic– I sincerely am pleasantly surprised at all of your reviews, and continued support!**

**Here we go again– tomorrow I might have the next chapter finished– fingers crossed!**

**hehe Daniel Crossed...**

**oh dear...**

* * *

A flickering ambiance pulsed over the walls in the room, eventually converging into a solid, humanoid shape directly hovering over the conference table. Hephaestus's form materialized in a grainy, flickering holograph, his eyes searching the environment that his image had materialized in. The wondrous, incredulous faces around him gaped at his sight, eyes fixed in their explorations of his apparition.

A small spread across his lips as he turned to face the Hammer extended in Desmond's grasp.

"You called, and here I stand; I see that you have been restored, and returned to your fold, intact."

Desmond nodded, "We need your help– in any way you can give it. I've filled in the others," his free arm gesturing as Hephaestus followed his motion, "and we're trying to figure out where we go from here."

"Yes, of course." He paused, rubbing his chin in thought, "Truly, this is your own path to choose, Desmond. I cannot guide you to it."

His shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and he opened his mouth to protest as his father beat him to the punch.

"Why not? You and your kind have had no trouble interfering or guiding the lives of others."

"Jeeze dad, take it easy–"

Hephaestus raised his hand, "Correct in your assumption you may be, however, I, unlike my mother, am not prepared to face a tribunal of calculations and parameters for such a thing."

William frowned, "So, you won't help us then? What the hell's the use of giving us this, if your not–"

"Guide you, I cannot. Aid in your plans however– provide your limited view with that of objection, that is entirely different."

Shaun pushed himself up from his seat, unable to contain himself for any longer, "I'm sorry to– no actually, I'm not– I truly am however intrigued out of my bloody trousers to actually talk to you, Hephaestus."

The apparition turned to face him with inquisition and mild amusement, " Hence, enunciate."

Stammering, the English Assassin attempted to recover from under the gaze of his icon, "Ah.. yes, well– is it…" he shook his head.

"I think he's trying to tell you he's got a crush on you." Rebecca joshed.

Shaun's face contorted, "I beg your pardon?"

"Crush?" Hephaestus looked to Desmond for interpretation, receiving only a shrug in reply.

"No– what I was attempting to say, was, well it was actually more of a question–"

Rebecca shoved him lightly, "Spit it out Shaun!"

"Are you able to actually fight with us? I mean, if push comes to shove, can you– will you fight with us?"

The room sat in silence for a moment, breathless in anticipation of his answer.

"No my friend– I cannot join you, although not for the reasons you expressed."

Shaun visibly withered, "And why not?"

He sighed wearily, "It is because of my situation. Presently, I am also truly absent of your presence. Before you simply rests an apparition, in your terms– hologram. As I told Desmond, this Temple was my prison, however, as of late, I view it as my workshop. As we speak now, my workers have labored for days under my watch. "

"Workers? As in Hepha– your workers, they're not… human, or First Civ–"

"They are made of more durable material. Much adapted by fire and tool to labor without strain, without fatigue."

"Sooo… like androids, right?" Rebecca quipped, her eyes glinting.

Hephaestus' eyes creased at the edges, "I suppose that they are."

"That's kick-ass."

"They're just bloody robots Rebecca– albeit ancient technology that is truly superior to anything we have ever– you might actually have a valid point for once…"

She stuck her tongue out at Shaun.

"Most intriguing…" Hephaestus mused as he watched her expression

"What exactly did you mean by help?" Eveline inquired softly.

"I suppose I mean I am at your disposal for insight and any sort of devices or technology you require. "

"Hey– that's my shtick!" Rebecca shouted.

"Calm yourself woman– I think we should appreciate any help we can get at this point." He placed a reassuring hand on her arm.

Flicking between the Hammer and Hephaestus, Desmond's eyes narrowed, "Can you tell us anything about this?"

"Ah yes, I have waited upon this query in particular." He inhaled deeply, resting his weight slightly against an unseen ledge, "As you must realize, it is much more than a mere communications tool. In fact, this particular artifact was the first and only of its kind. It was my first creation. "

"But what about Zeus'… er Tinia's–"

"Shaun, let the man finish for god's sake!" William hissed.

He nodded in Shaun's direction, "True, I created his weapons, created their great thrones and riches. However this, I crafted for myself. It is my creation, and I alone hold knowledge of its workings and abilities."

The expectancy his statement had left, lingered in the air, a suffocating, stagnant pause each Assassin held in his throat.

"This… Hammer… serves many uses. In your time, Desmond, you have seen your most recent ancestor utilize an artifact with abilities similar to the one you hold now. Like that of which I speak, this Hammer allows its wielder to access the Nexus– a zenith of my civilization's chronologic achievements. As has been made clear to you, this link serves as an entry point for our calculations, and a… timeline… of sorts to better understand how our plans shall unfold. My Hammer allows the wielder to access this place from wherever he may be. Unlike your ancestor's artifact, this piece shall guide your steps through the Nexus, while you remain in your own form. While in the Nexus, this piece shall allow adjustments to be made– however, heed my caution– any parameter changed, will have severe and irreparable consequences in the future– some which may even be beyond my expansion to your mind."

A line of anxiety interrupted Desmond's features, and he shifted his weight uneasily. He glanced between his father's equally concerned expression, and the sage placidity Hephaestus exuded. "Is…is there anything else?"

Hephaestus chuckled softly, "You will soon find, that my device holds more within it that may be at first detected. But I will heed you this– even as we speak, Juno seeks you out, her intentions far from amicable." His tone had darkened significantly, falling lower by a few tones, "It is only through this piece by which your whereabouts is shrouded from her sights. You would do well to ensure it stays on your person until you have ended this once and for all. Should it be lost– taken from you…" he closed his eyes wearily, "there is nothing I could do to stop her. Her cardinal interest will remain on your retrieval and termination."

"Well– that's… comforting." Desmond stammered with a forced laugh.

"If your questions have been sated, I must now take my leave. I assume it is not out of your grasp as to why." He gazed around the room, taking in each silent face in turn, before resting on Desmond's gaze, "Then I shall away. Should you need my assistance, I shall be at your disposal– only ask for it."

Desmond blinked as the room returned to its original lighting, his arm left with a slight tingle as the light faded. As he sat back in his chair, sinking the full weight of his frame into the leather, he turned to his father, checking his expression for some sort of permission or guidance. "I think our first steps should be to figure out what the hell we're going to do first– I… I guess I figured I'd know what to do once I got here. Once I talked to you, and to him." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I'm going into the Nexus– he said it could offer some sort of guidance… it's better than the bullshit we're gonna come up with out here."

Eveline shifted in her chair, "Well… if you're going to go through with this, I think it's best for us to set up some sort of monitoring system – perhaps Rebecca could set."

"You really think that's necessary?"

"Desmond– who knows what kind of shit's gonna happen in there–" Rebecca quipped, her eyes urgent.

William stood placing a hand on Desmond's shoulder, "If we make an effort of monitoring you in the Animus– we sure as hell aren't going to send you into some godforsaken First Civ playground."

Desmond pushed his seat back as he stood, "Alright, alright– sorry for asking!" Despite his words, his tone remained jocular. "We should set up then– do we have room somewhere for all that equipment?"

Shaun nodded, "Yeah– third floor used to be private banquet halls– should be plenty of room in one of them… provided they're in working condition."

"I'll need to double check on the power capabilities, but I think I have an idea as to how we'll swing this." Rebecca offered, tucking in her chair.

The others rose, making their way to the door. Eveline stood for a moment, glancing between Desmond and his father, "Are we welcome to join?"

"By all means– I'm sure he's fine with it."

Desmond balked momentarily, taking in all of the Assassins around him, "Are you all… going to be checking in on me?"

"Is this a problem?" Petrov inquired.

"Uh… not really… I just– I have no idea what I'll be doing– it might be a bit… frustrating to watch."

The older man smiled, "This is no problem– I am not expecting perfection– only… exploration."

Desmond nodded his thanks, "Rebecca, how exactly will you be monitoring this?"

She smiled, "How'd ya think?"

Desmond groaned.

Rebecca latched onto his arm as she pulled him through the doorway, "Besides– Baby misses ya!"

* * *

**Be sure to let me know how I'm doing– we're all in on this together!**

**Stay lovely, **

**juno57**


	10. The Nexus

**Hey all!**

**No– I didn't forget about you :P**

**Have a very Merry Christmas, and take this 3000+ word chapter as my present :D**

**Stay lovely, and enjoy!**

**juno57**

**PS! Super huge shout out to whoever will be my 72nd follower! **

**Templar power!**

**lol**

...And as usual, I don't own :D

* * *

The stark emptiness of a once great hall surrounded the group with the pain of neglect and years gone by. The faded wallpaper's stripes long since lost its luster lay drab against the walls. The mirrors, whose gilded borders of flying curves and cyclic formation, were coated in several inches of dust. A brief swipe of a hand across the glass allowed a very isolated view into the aged splendor of the ancient devices.

Unsettling emotions coursed through Desmond as he approached the Animus. The peculiar and unsettling mixture of anxiety and comfort, seemed to build with each step he took, yet he remained unable to look away from it. The snaking cords that lay flat in their winding patterns on the floor seemed to increase the stress and in a strange way, he had always felt that his actions in the Animus were his own: his own private sanctuary from the chaos that unfolded around him. Despite Shaun, Rebecca, and Lucy's presence, he had typically been left to his own devices, only being disturbed by the occasional soft inquiry of his fatigue or hunger. Now that the array of spectators stood expectantly behind him, the whole experience seemed wrong; exposed.

"Alright Desmond, I'm just gonna start with some diagnostics– Baby's been out of service for a while sin–" the comment died in her throat with an uncomfortable glance at her shoes.

He placed a hand on her shoulder for a moment, "Hey– don't sweat it" She nodded her head once, "Just ah… make sure everything's running fine." He smirked at her.

Seating herself in front of her computer screens, her fingers tapped impatiently, waiting for the system to boot.

"So… are– what exactly happens now?"

He shrugged, "I have no idea to be honest. I just… Connor just touched the POE, and then Juno took him into the –"

"Yeah, but I'm damn sure we don't want her to find us. This won't–"

He shook his head, "Hephaestus just said that this Piece is different. There's no way she'll find me as long I have it with me."

William grimaced, "Let's hope he's right."

"That still doesn't answer how we're bloody getting into the Nexus."

"Yeah, I don't think 72 is going to work this time."

Desmond snickered, "Yeah– I think your right 'Becca." He shifted in his seated position, rolling his shoulders back while shrugging into the upholstery. "Maybe… maybe Eagle Vision?" With nothing else to offer than a shrug, the other Assassins urged him to try– nothing came to mind other than trial and error.

The cold metal felt heavier than it had before as Desmond clasped it between his fingers. Eyes closed, he sighed heavily and allowed the cool glow of his Eagle Vision to encompass his senses.

"Son–" his voice wavered in uncertainty, "do you feel that?"

Desmond nodded; the Hammer had suddenly started shuddering despite the firm grip that held it. "Something's happened– I can see… it's like when Juno talked to…to…"

"Desmond? Desmond?!" Eveline called out, moving from her seat next to Rebecca to shake his arm gently.

"He's okay– " Rebecca stated before reclining into her chair, "His vitals are all green– nothing like what we've seen before."

Reading the screen over her shoulder William nodded, "His heart rate's a little higher than it should be– but from now on he's on his own. "

Eveline nodded, "Of course– I… I guess it's just been a while since I've dealt with this kind of thing." The chair squeaked slightly as she sat back down, casually taking in the numbers trailing across the screens.

The Hammer continued its pulsing, and Shaun pulled Desmond's sweater sleeve up to check for the pattern of light beneath it.

"I really am curious as to what this is… has anyone ever seen anything close to this sort of thing? I don't recall myself..."

William shook his head, "Not to my knowledge." Crossing his legs he sank further into a worn sofa. "I'm certain it has something to do with the bleeding effect– or something in his DNA that might have been altered from his exposure with the Apple."

Leaning against one of the walls, Petrov lifted his head to take in the scene, "So… now we wait?"

Rebecca nodded, "Yup– might want to grab something to eat, we're gonna be a while."

* * *

Desolate empty streets of an abandoned metropolis greeted Desmond as he opened his eyes. The surrounding streets lay completely devoid of people, garbage, or any other sign of human life. An empty shell of a city was all that remained. Desmond walked forward, unsure of anything in this strange new environment. Half expecting to see some vision of Juno around every corner, he traversed across the broken asphalt with caution.

_What happened here? Is this… these… is this supposed to be New York? Some of the buildings– what's left of them anyway… seem familiar…_

He was left alone to explore for a length of time, gaping at the ruin of the city that was once his home. As he ventured further, the rubble became harder to traverse, in some places, he was forced to turn back from either gaping sinkholes or the large walls of concrete from a collapsed building. Hours passed, or so they appeared to pass, and eventually Desmond grew tired, sitting in frustration against an ironically intact phone booth. Examining the Hammer in his hand, he sighed in vexation at its cyclic pulsing and, true to its creator's temperament, lack of answers or aid.

_Is it really that fucking hard to give me a damn clue? Honestly– sometimes I wonder if these guys actually intent to help us. _

Juno's sadistic last words flashed through his mind and he pinched the bridge of his nose. He released his hold on the Hammer, and as soon as his fingers relinquished their grip, a searing flash of pain ripped up his arm.

* * *

"Shit–!" Rebecca whipped upright from her half slumber, immediately brought to consciousness when her screen started blinking angrily at her. A loud ping emanated from the speakers and she searched through his vitals for the cause.

"What the hell's going on?!" William swiftly paced over, his brow knit together in surprise.

"I have no idea– his vitals are fine by the calculations–"

"Fine? They could hear your bloody alarms ringing in England!"

"Yes Rebecca, please could you turn those off until we've–"

"Jeeze, Bill, I'm on it." She scrambled over the keys exhaling shortly in frustration.

"Look at his arm– the colour… it's turned red." Eveline pointed.

Shaun raised an eyebrow, "Well that doesn't bode well."

William pulled a chair next to Rebecca's, "You said his vitals are fine? Are you completely sure?"

"Shit William– I don't know what to say –" William grimaced at her comment, folding his arms across his chest, "I'm no doctor, I'm only going off of my readings. We know jack about that thing, so who knows how it could be interfering with the Animus or my equipment."

"Isn't there anything we can do?" Eveline asked, "His temperature is pretty high– what's your reading?"

" 'Says it's 98.8 degrees."

She frowned, "I think we should double check– he feels pretty w–"

Rebecca stood from her chair, " I think I know what I'm talking about– I don't need you telling me what to do!"

"H…Hey uh– let's keep it down yeah? I think we're all just a little… this isn't going to help Desmond. Eveline, why don't you see if you can find a thermometer, and Rebecca, I'll –"

"Hey– it… it stopped blinking–" Rebecca leaned over to inspect his arm, "Okay, that's really weird."

William stood again, "We'll need to keep a closer watch on him– Rebecca, see if you can run an internal diagnostic on your systems– Eveline and Shaun, see if you can't find some more standard monitoring systems… at the very least, a thermometer."

"Would that be rectal or oral?" Shaun quipped. The Assassins stared openly at him, "Riiight… definitely not anal…"

* * *

Desmond winced as the pain quickly ripped up his arm, beginning to approach his centre.

_Shit– what the AAhhhhh!_

His body started trembling and he struggled to keep himself propped against the phone booth. Out of desperation, his fingers twitched to search for the Hammer, and as quickly as it had begun, the stabs of pain dissipated. Panting, he slumped in his seated position, taking a few precious moments to recover.

_…W….wh… what th…the hell was that?!_

His fingers firmly gripped around the Hammer, its weight somehow reassuring in his trembling fingers. Rising to stand, he rolled his shoulders, surprised at the lack of residual pain. Sighing heavily, he began to make his way through an empty alley, turning sideways to an awkward shuffle halfway through, on account of the severe tilt in one of the buildings. The rough stucco of one building bit into his chest, the other pressed deep into his shoulder blades, and with a grimace, he was forced to turn back.

Teeth clenched, jaw set tight he blindly ran in search of a sign, a hint; any fraction of help that might be found. However, his search appeared to be in vain. No matter where he looked, no matter how many one-way streets he walked down, he was as much in the dark as he ever had been.

He backed out of the alley, fists clenched, "WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO FIND?!"

His shoulders slumped, _Get a grip on yourself– there's got to be something here that's relevant._ He ran his hand down his face,_ Of course it would be too easy to just walk down a street, and expect to find a nice blueprint– or maybe a powerpoint. _

After making his way around the same block yet again, he approached the ever- present telephone booth, ready to slump against it once more in defeat. As the soft echo of his footsteps resonated, he felt a mild tingle in his arm, and, fearing the sharp pains would return, he stopped. After a moment, they seemed to subside, and he pushed forward again. Once more, the twinges returned, and, although puzzled, he did continue forward, slowly pacing up to the booth.

Turning to investigate, his attention focused on the phone booth itself. Despite the chaos and utter devastation to the world around him, this tiny local had somehow survived, intact.

_A phone booth– seems reminiscent of a movie…_

He walked in a circle around the booth, before stepping inside to complete his sweep. A thin white line appeared over a piece of paper pasted onto the interior. Curiosity provoked a closer inspection, and true to his suspicion, there lay a message, typed in simple black font.

_It is a rough road that leads to the heights of greatness. __1_

He stood back for a moment, eyes flicking back and forth over the text several times to digest the meaning.

_Am I supposed to take this literally? Or is this some more misdirection…_

He pursed his lips in consternation.

_Everything I've seen so far has been destroyed or buried under rubble…_

_I've spent long enough in here without finding anything close to a hint. _

* * *

The rapid tattoo of fleet footsteps against the dusty asphalt and the grunt that slipped through Desmond's lips as he launched towards the torn awning of a pub was the only noise in the dry air. Despite his earlier reservations, the Hammer lay tucked snugly into his backpack, secure for the climb ahead. Strong, seasoned muscles pulled and lifted as he made his way vertically. The destructive force that had ripped the city to shreds had, in its wake, left quite a decent amount of handholds, and feasible building angles. The reflective surface of the building he was climbing had been coated in a thick layer of grime, and barely retained any luster. Halfway up his ascent, his fingers nearly slipped from the their grip as a familiarly striking symbol could be faintly detected under the dirty windows. The sharp angle of the Assassin's compass was clearly distinguishable beneath the dirt– quickly Desmond used his free hand to rub a streak of the dust off, peering into the window. His heart nearly stopped when his eyes traced the sharp, repetitive forms of a Templar Cross inside the Assassin's compass.

* * *

_THE FUCK?!_

_This… can't be right– what the hell is that supposed to mean anyway?_

With a slight shudder, he continued in his path, trying to put the sight behind him, chalked up to lack of sleep, and Shaun's ceaseless conspiracy theories.

His lungs began to ache, and his shoulders burned from the constant demand to be pushed higher, faster. His eyes began to squint closed as he saw the same blasphemous symbol embossed into a banner from the building's upper floors. The glass had been removed from the floor above him, yet when he attempted to grasp onto the steel frame, the same burn instantly flashed up through his hands towards his shoulders. Gasping, he lost his footing, scrambling to find purchase, but bracing himself for the fall, should he not find it. He managed to slow his fall by snagging his sweater on a metal fragment, and heaved himself through a broken window in the process. He paused for a moment, hands gripping into the broken tile floor of the office building. His eyes searched his surroundings, looking for an exit leading back outside, or– better yet– an elevator shaft he could use.

_You've got to be kidding me..._

The interior of the office appeared to be decorated by some sort of twisted architect. The desks were placed to resembled the general shape of a V– oddly enough the empty space in the center of this arrangement had a perfectly intact Templar cross, tiled in red ceramic.

_No no no no._

He spotted the elevator doors, and hurried over to them, trying to ignore the cold dread forming in his stomach. Wrenching the cold, battered steel apart, he jumped inside, hurriedly pulling himself up the thick cluster of cables.

The endless skyline of an abandoned city greeted Desmond as he opened the elevator doors. Skyscrapers ran on into the horizon, some laying in ruins, collapsed against another for support. Others still remained upright, black skeletons of steel and concrete against the fiery sky. Turning in a complete rotation, he took in the sights around him and sighed in frustration at the repeated symbols strangely transposed into the city's architecture. Looking down to the roof of the building, he groaned, taking in the Templar cross beneath his feet, nestled in the apex of the Assassin's compass.

_Did all of this destruction happen because we attempted a truce?_

The rubble around him seemed deafening to his senses.

_Or maybe... because we didn't…_

He sighed, trying and failing, to put those thoughts out of his head. Instead, he turned his attention to his next steps, taking the Hammer out of his backpack in case it should choose this time to offer assistance.

_Now where?_

He paced towards the edge of the building; the Hammer in his hand pulsed quickly, its light rapidly increasing.

_Off? I'm supposed to… do the same physics apply in … wherever – whatever–here is…_

The tips of his sneakers hung off the edge as he debate the depths.

In the distance, a woman's wail seemed to suddenly crescendo out of the ruins. Desmond balked, stopping in confusion.

_Did I do that? Am I not supposed to jump?_

_Am I supposed to save… her– whoever it is? Can she help me?_

He strained to look for the source of the sound, eyes blinking to Eagle Vision, yet yielding no aid. The pitch of the voice shifted, and a cold chill of its familiarity seemed to nestle in his bones.

_Fuck no._

He stepped back slightly as he felt the building beneath him tremble. Whipping his head around to the surrounding towers, their erratic sways confirming his realization.

_What the hell am I supposed to do?! Jump? And then what– splatter on the ground? _

He backed up a few more steps.

_Staying put doesn't appear to be any better of an option– this building looks like it has about thirty more seconds on its shelf life._

His feet rested in the centre of the Templar cross as the building trembled under him.

* * *

"His heart rate's up again– shit– by a lot! How did I not…" Rebecca scrambled to check on the monitoring system.

"And it's reliable this time?"

"I ran three diagnostics, Bill, what more do you want?"

He held his hands up defensively, "I was only clarifying."

"His temperature's fine– and his arm is… well… I suppose the blue light is considered normal now?" Eveline questioned.

Shaun shrugged.

"How much longer is this going to take?"

"Sorry to keep you up Petrol–"

"It's _Petrov_, Rebecca. And you do not have to deal with a ten hour time difference, after three nights in the field with no rest." He growled.

"I have no idea what to expect– I don't think there's anything we have that can monitor him as far as… progress goes. These sort of things aren't the same as the usual memories. There aren't any… well…"

"Checkpoints?" Rebecca offered.

William nodded, "I suppose that's the most accurate definition, although a bit unsophisticated."

Rebecca grimaced, "His heart rate isn't decreasing."

"If anything, it appears to be– increasing." added Shaun from over her shoulder.

"I have nothing I can say to that– we can only hope that whatever's going on in there, that he figures it out soon."

"Before it kills him." Eveline added softly.

Rebecca rolled her eyes.

* * *

Desmond stood in the centre of the roof, knees firm despite the chaos unfurling around him. Her wails still reverberated through the empty city, growing more furious and shrill with each new cry. Eyes open, and stance ready, he awaited whatever the approaching cries and violent tremors would bring.

He felt the concrete shifting, felt the rubble give way, and the steel skeleton bend and shear under the pressure. And yet he still remained firm in his decision, Hammer pulsing wildly in his right hand, his tattoo of light flashing in time with it. The pace of his heart reached a fever pitch when he saw the edge of the roof slipping away, it clawed in towards where he stood, the crumble of destruction hurriedly approaching his feet.

Yet he remained still.

The fissures had reached the edges of the Assassin symbol, the darker edges breaking off rapidly, dropping down to the gaping hole in the street below. The buildings around him were unable to escape the same pull, many of them already in the final throes of their collapse.

And yet, amidst the chaos, he remained.

* * *

The creaking screams of metal bending and breaking, the wails of Juno, and the earth's trembling seemed to come to a halt simultaneously. Desmond hardly dared to breathe. The empty city truly lay in ruins at this point, the tall remnants of skyscrapers completely reduced to rubble, leaving an unobstructed view of the horizon from his vantage point. In the distance, he could make out the now familiar, albeit still disturbing, sight of the blended symbol.

_Alright– I can take a hint._

He smirked.

_Oh. There it is. That hint I've been waiting for. Practically hit me over the head with it…_

His vision slowly faded with a white haze, and felt the familiar tugging in the back of his mind, akin to the same sensation of the Animus' ejection sequence. His eyes slowly closed as he relaxed into it, letting out a held breath as he woke back into December 31st 2012.

* * *

**A/N: Did you get the "movie reference"? :P Lemme know if you did– more internets up for grabs!**

**As usual– let me know how I'm doing, and if you like what you're seeing/want to see :D**

**See you on the next chapter! **

1 Lucius Annaeus Seneca


	11. Aftermath

**Hey all! **

**Once again, thank you so, so, SO, much for all of your reviews, faves and follows– you make a girl blush ;P**

**This chapter serves as an explanation of what Desmond experienced in the Nexus– but if you still have questions/concerns, PLEASE feel free to drop me a PM.**

**ALSO**

**A shout out to my 72nd follower, JediKnightMarina55- congrats amico mio :3**

**Once again, ALSO– to all of my guest reviewers, to whom I cannot reply, (grrr), I want to thank you all SO much– your comments have been some of the nicest, and I always feel bad that I can't tell you that directly, so...well... thanks :D**

**I also am restating that I do not own Seneca's quote, the Matrix, nor anything to do with Assassin's Creed. These are merely my musings ;p**

**In addition to my other announcements– I want to wish you all a happy New Year, and here's hoping that 2013 will be twice as amazing as 2012!**

**Stay lovely, **

**juno57. **

* * *

The soft suffocated hiccups in Desmond's breathing pattern startled the group of Assassins from their slumped positions. Rebecca scanned her screen, watching as Desmond's vitals blinked off one by one as she began unplugging and removing the various sensors she'd attached to him earlier. She slipped her fingers under the neckline of his shirt, carefully peeling the last few electrodes off his chest.

Desmond's eyes opened slowly, his eyelids fluttered as the bright industrial lights flooded in. "Whoa– what's with the search lights?"

"Sorry– just give it a minute Des." Rebecca smiled. She too, like the others, waited with her heart in her throat, and her breath suspended until he delivered the news.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Desmond sat forward in the Animus, knees bending slightly to create a more natural upright position. His eyes flickered between the anxious gazes of the others who stood around, "Sorry– I guess uh– just gimme a sec." He shuddered slightly as the usual aftershocks of an Animus ejection washed over him from the base of his skull down. William offered a hand, and Desmond placed the Hammer into it, his eyes remaining closed the entire time.

The patience in the air, unlike the dust, was drawing thinner with each passing second, so with a final sigh, Desmond decided to sate their curiosity.

"You remember what it was like when Connor was shown the Nexus, by Juno, right?"

A few nods urged him to continue.

"I guess, it was kind of like that… but, not as… well, there was no 'in between' area, like when Juno, or Minerva, or uh… "

"Tinia?" Shaun offered.

He nodded, "Yeah– nothing like when any of them had ever talked to me before. None of that gold sparkly shit. I looked around, and all I could see was a city that had been struck with some kind of… apocalypse or natural disaster or something." He closed his eyes in an effort to remember, "I… I think– I'm pretty sure it was New York."

William exchanged a glance with the others, "Are you sure, son?"

"And yet, despite the damage, you could tell–"

"I know what I saw Shaun– I spent nine years there, I think I could recognize that city by now."

"… it's a bloody big city." Shaun muttered dejectedly.

Desmond shook his head in frustration, "As I was saying," Shaun sat himself down, waving his hands in a defensive manner, "I started to walk around, I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do– there was no one there to tell me."

Eveline nodded, "From what I heard, at least, it seemed Juno was intent on helping Connor through his Nexus."

"Yeah, well, no Desmond the flying eagle for me." He murmured, a mild smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "As I kept walking, I kept coming across dead ends, where some building had collapsed, or a sinkhole had formed. I had passed through the same intersection about a half dozen times, when I decided I wasn't going to find anything– and I sat down." He frowned, "And then, I went to put the POE down, and… pain– I felt this incredible pain through my arm–"

"So that's what happened…" Rebecca mused. Desmond turned to regard her curiously, "Out of nowhere, your vitals went ape shit– I had no idea why. Everything was green; the next minute, it looked like you were going into cardiac arrest." She jerked her thumb back to where William stood, "He thought it was my equipment," she snorted, "but I ran diagnostics– there was nothing wrong on my end."

"Why don't you let Desmond finish." Eveline asked quietly, placing a hand on her shoulder, which Rebecca promptly shrugged off.

With an eyebrow raised, Desmond inhaled deeply, "Right… well, I guess I must have managed to pick the damn thing back up, and then the pain stopped, just like that." He sighed again, "Then I kept walking around, looking for something– anything that would tell me I was on the right track."

"The Hammer didn't help you?" Petrov inquired.

He shook his head, "Not really– not at first. I had been stumbling around the same intersection, walking past this phone booth a dozen times, when I finally must have realized there was something off about it. I mean, if the whole city had taken that much damage, how the hell did one tiny phone booth survive?"

"The Matrix has you, Desmond." Rebecca simpered, a wide grin across her features.

Shaun rolled his eyes.

He smiled back at her, "I guess you could say that."

Petrov looked quizzically at Shaun, who only shook his head back in reply.

"I figured I should take a look at it, and when I did– well, there wasn't really anything important. Not at first. I saw this ad posted on the side of it; the print seemed bolder than any of the others."

"What did it say?" William breathed.

"I'm getting to that– gimme a minute." William backed away slightly, his brows giving away his state of amusement. "I think it was a quote or something… I dunno– I can't really remember all of it." Despite the silence of the group, Desmond sensed a unified groan of disappointment, "I'm sorry, I just… uh… it was… the 'heights of greatness' or… 'rising to the heights of greatness'–something like that." He paused for a moment, letting his words sink in, hoping that someone might catch a hidden meaning in them. After a while in the silence her shrugged, "I figured I'd just take it literally so I just… I started climbing."

"Up a skyscraper?"

"It was collapsing … er, it _had_ collapsed. I dunno, I just," he paused, "however it happened, I was climbing up through it, and I got up to this window pane, and I looked inside, and I saw a symbol–"

"Really? Just like Connor." Rebecca chuckled. Eveline frowned slightly.

"Not exactly… what Connor saw, that was… I saw a Templar cross inside an Assassin symbol."

* * *

From beyond the others, Shaun interrupted, "Wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on a minute," Shaun paused his eyes scanning the others, "Heights of greatness? The heights of greatness– as in…" he stopped, hands frozen in a position of thought, his expression falling, " Well what the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Did you not just hear what he said?" Eveline scoffed, eyebrows still raised.

"What on earth are you talking about Shaun?" William crossed his arms over his chest.

"Just– well, I heard what he was saying about the combined symbols, and I suppose that jogged my memory." His exclamation was met with quizzical eyes. "For Pete's sake– I'm saying I understand what he's talking about!"

Petrov sighed hotly, "Then why don't you tell us already?"

Shaun ran his tongue across his lips, preparing for his oration, "I'm saying, the quote he saw – '_It is a rough road that leads to the heights of greatness._'– that's Seneca." Again he was met with empty gazes. "Seneca– Lucius Annaeus Seneca, for crying out loud people…. What on earth do they teach in America these days?!"

"I am not American." Petrov quipped.

"And yet you still don't know either, do you?"

"And what is that supposed to mean?" Petrov stepped closer to Shaun, his stance transforming to one of hostility.

Placing a hand over Petrov's chest, William stepped in between them, " Shaun, this isn't helping anyone–" Petrov stepped back, quickly shrugging his shoulders back, straightening his jacket. "Now, you were saying something about that quote?"

"Ah... yes, of course. You see, by itself, the symbol doesn't really seem that relevant– I mean, how on earth are we supposed to interpret it? However, paired with the quote from Seneca, and you've got yourself quite the nice little hint you've been looking for. You see, Seneca– now this is the Younger we're talking about, he was part of a group who conspired to rid the ancient Roman world of a certain plague known to you and I, as Nero. This conspiracy, made up of both Assassins _and_ Templars, decided to work together in order to stop him."

"I thought Nero committed suicide." Eveline interjected, crossing her legs.

"I guess their truce didn't work out then."

"No, Rebecca, to the average man, it may seem that way– but if anyone should know about the lies hidden in history, it's us. Now then, as you said, yes, the group never carried through with their plot, however, that doesn't mean they weren't the ones responsible for Nero's death. No, in fact, they had a little help from our friends."

Desmond's brow furrowed in concentration, "They… used a Piece of Eden on him? Why?"

"Perhaps that was the best way for things to turn out– I don't know, but that's not the point. The fact of the matter is, I believe that… in some way this… merger of sorts… might just be what we're looking at."

Desmond shook his head, "I don't really think that's an option. How would we know that we could trust each other? Nothing would get done." He grimaced further, "And besides, how do we know that the destruction I saw in the city wasn't from that _very same merger. _"

Shaun shook his head, "Well, it's something we're going to have to consider going forwards." Shaun stood, " Remember what hangs in the balance, yeah?"

"Asshole." Desmond muttered as he watched him walk out of the room.

* * *

William placed a hand on his shoulder, watching as his son's attention turned from the English Assassin to the others in the room, "Was that it?

"No– I uh, I heard screaming… or wailing, I guess… and I think it was Juno."

"Was she there?" Rebecca asked nervously, "Can she trace you through the Nexus or something?"

"Calm down– I don't think so. Hephaestus told me that the Hammer is the only thing preventing that, why would it expose me?"

"How do we know we can trust him? He was a slave to his own mother, how do we know he's not–"

Desmond shot a glare at Petrov, "Why the hell would he bring me back from the dead, only to fuck around with me?"

"Son, please, you were saying?"

He let out a short breath, "Her screams were getting louder– she sounded pissed. Then the buildings began to shake, and… I saw that I had a choice between either jumping off, to who knows what, or staying put."

"And?!"

He smiled at Rebecca, "I took the last option. When the quakes stopped, I looked down at the building beneath me, and saw I was standing right over a huge version of those symbols I'd been seeing."

"I think that seems to be too much of a coincidence to be ignored." William pondered, resting his chin in his hand.

"That's what I was thinking– but I know you said before that–"

"I know, and I'm wondering if frankly we literally have no choice this time. You said her wails stopped when you made your choice?"

"After. I thought about changing, I mean, I had no idea what the hell was going on. I almost jumped– the Hammer seemed to show that that was the right choice."

Eveline raised an eyebrow, "If it wanted you to make the wrong choice, how do we know we can trust it? Petrov may have had a point Desmond."

He shook his head decisively, "I don't think it was a trick, I think it was a test." He turned to look at his father who stood ready to leave the room, "What are we doing now?"

"It's New Year's Eve, Desmond– I think you can take the rest of the night off." The slight lilt in his voice warmed his eyes, and the others matched his infectious smile.

"Aye, aye, sir!" Rebecca quipped. Desmond raised an eyebrow at her, "What? You spent a lot of time on a ship with Connor."

Desmond rolled his eyes.

* * *

The cool winter breeze pulled colour into Desmond's cheeks, the scents of New York in the winter carried along with a stray snowflake on the wind. He tugged the zipper on his hoodie higher, nestling his hands into his pockets, not out of necessity, but of comfort. He exhaled deeply, eyes heavily lidded as he let his head lean back, watching as his breath lit in the night air. The wisps fanned out, mingling amongst each other, until they finally dissipated into the darkness.

"Guess you've got a good view of the city from up here."

Desmond turned slowly to face Eveline, watching as she stepped up to him.

"Champagne? Where on earth did you find that?" His hands indicated the two flutes of golden liquid in her hands.

She shrugged, "We had some in an old storeroom, most of it went to the others, but I snagged us a glass."

He smirked, "I never was one for the fancier stuff– why spend a couple hundred when I can buy enough whisky to kill me for the same price?"

"You can be pretty morbid sometimes, you know that?"

He smiled back at her, "I prefer the term blunt– or honest, sometimes, the truth hurts after all."

Eveline's fingers mimed being burned by something, "Scathing!"

Their quiet laughter pattered out into the mix of music and announcer commentary drifting from Times Square. Both Assassins looked out into the lights of the city, their puffs of breath occasionally blocking their view from time to time.

Desmond took a quick sip, grimacing slightly at the sweetness.

"You can hear the countdown, you know?"

"Hmmm?"

Eveline smirked, " They're counting– 8…7…6…"

Desmond turned back out to face the city, his eyes closing as he followed the countdown.

" Three…"

_What a year this has been. _

"Two…"

_How the hell is this supposed to work? A truce with the Templars? Fuck– I thought patching things up with my dad was hell…_

"One…" her voice's timbre reached higher in anticipation.

_I guess we'll have to see what the future holds._

A chorus of faraway 'happy New Years' resounded, echoed by Eveline who stood beside him. He looked down to her, watching as her eyes searched his for something. Something he didn't quite know himself.

"Happy New Year." She repeated, barely above a whisper.

Desmond smiled for a brief moment, before finishing off his champagne, and handing the glass back to her. "That," he began, pacing over to the elevator, "remains to be seen."


	12. 1nt3l

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	13. Discussions

**Hey all! **

**I want to start off by saying sorry that this update has been a bit longer coming than usual– university applications sort of own my life right now! **

**So… that last chapter huh? Still remains to be solved correctly… KEEP TRYING :D Still more Internets to be awarded :3**

**I'd also love to hear more of your speculation– you guys surprise me sometimes regarding future events ;)**

**Anyway– Merci beaucoup for your AMAZING support/comments/reviews/PM's/EVERYTHING**

**Every time my email pings, and I see it's from FF, I smile like an idiot :3**

**From this point on in the fic, interpret every day I update as the same date in the story– i.e, the January 6****th**** 2013= Jan 6****th**** 2013 in the fic. **

**PS– sorry for the shorter length– I really just needed to upload something, ANYTHING, so please be happy…and know that the next will be longer again.**

**Don't kill me kthanxbai**

**Ubisoft owns. **

* * *

Under the stark lighting of the makeshift Animus room Eveline's tired face was ghostly white in her computer screen's reflection.

"Hey– uh.. how's Desmond doing? It's been a few days, and I–"

"You what?" Rebecca reclined in the chair, regarding Eveline with an unreadable expression.

She balked, "Um– well, what are we supposed to be doing right now?"

"I've been playing minecraft– I dunno about you." Her eyes widened at Eveline's condescending suspicion, "If anyone asks– I'm just waiting for some shit to finish compiling"

"Riiight…"

"So what did you really want?" her teeth chewed on the end of a pen.

"Um… nothing really– I mean I was just… can I talk to him for a few minutes– I mean, unless he's in the Animus or…" her eyes flitted over the red cloth of said device, devoid of any sign of Desmond.

Rebecca frowned, "What's so earth shattering– I mean, other than the fact that Juno's after our heads. He's either in the Animus, or he's getting his beauty sleep. He hasn't really had a lot of down time in this career path."

Sighing heavily, Eveline shifted her weight, arms crossing over her chest, "Why does it matter what I'm talking to him about– you're not his babysitter, he can take care of himself."

"You think I'm suggesting he can't? I'm telling you, he won't want to talk– he's got better things to do then talk to a fan-gir–"

"Do _not_ finish that sentence." Eveline's face had paled, her stance becoming more defensive.

The corner of her mouth twitched, "Or what? You gonna run away like a little chicken shit again?"

Eveline's mouth fell open, "Excuse me?"

"You heard me– besides, he doesn't need to be smothered right now."

"Smothered? What exactly–"

"I've seen how you look at him– that nice little stunt with the champagne on New Year's– he doesn't have time for a girlfriend–"

"And how do you know that?! Since he obviously spends so much time with you, I guess you know everything about h–"

Rebecca stood, her chair rolled away as she paced over to Eveline, brandishing fists, "Unlike you– I actually know how to fight– and I sure as shit would love to knock a few of those teeth out."

"I'm a field agent– when's the last time you actually fought someone– oh, not of course in a video game– in the _real world_."

With a strangled cry, Rebecca lunged for Eveline, shoving her unceremoniously onto her ass. The two women turned suddenly as William hurried through the door, holding his arms up for them to cease whatever it was they were doing.

* * *

"Bill–"

"Do I want to know what's going on here?" he gave them each a scathing look. Avoiding his gaze, they suddenly became absorbed with the collecting dust on the floor and shelving. "That's what I thought. I don't want to see this kind of behaviour– from _anyone_– last of all the ones I count as responsible." Eveline's head sank further to her chest. "If anyone– I would have seen this from Desmond– but you… I expected better."

Closing the door to seal his sentiment, Eveline gave Rebecca a lingering stare before hurrying out of the room before her emotions got the better of her.

_Bitch. _

* * *

The ceiling had ceased being interesting an hour ago, yet Desmond continued to study it. His mind felt freed to race around in circles, the subtle ache in the back of his head throbbing with each new question. The dull sound of Petrov's low voice in the hallway pulled him from his thoughts, and he sat up, listening to see who he was talking with.

Poking his head through the doorway, he glanced between Petrov and his father, confusion creping across his brow at his father's evident disapproval.

"Is everything alright?"

"Oh– uh, yes son, nothing time won't fix I suppose."

"Yeah, seven to ten days." Petrov smirked.

"If that's the case," Desmond started, "then you might want to keep your voice down."

William shook his head, walking down the hallway to the elevator. Seeing that the conversation had ended, Desmond headed back into his bedroom.

"Wait– Desmond?"

He poked his head back out, "Yes?"

"I… I had a question… about Shaun, actually."

He raised an eyebrow, "No, it's not your imagination. He's English."

Petrov blinked, "….Pardon?"

"Uh… wrong crowd… you were saying?"

"Had he always been… so…"

"Always had his head up his ass? Yeah. Probably thinks it's a bowler hat. Always has been one for _fashion_..."

"Well, I suppose that's one way of saying it… I mean… have you ever maybe thought that…"

"Thought what?" Desmond leaned against the doorframe, his shoulders squared, arms folded over his chest.

Petrov pursed his lips before shaking his head once, "Ignore me, I think I just need some sleep."

Desmond frowned as he watched him walk away, "Time difference, right?"

* * *

Sleep had finally claimed him. Eyes shut out the world around, the noises, the distractions. Freedom– blind freedom– to explore the question plaguing his mind, and depriving him of the very thing he now found. Rest had at last fallen upon his weary body, and he reciprocated its embrace, only to have it torn away.

"–smond? Son? Are you– oh… sorry, I thought you were only ignoring me." Desmond sat up, giving his least impressed face a shot, "You left your door open, so I figured–"

"It's fine dad, just, maybe try words before shaking a _resting_ person."

"Right. Well, there's always time for sleep– I wanted to talk about where we'll be going from here."

"Didn't we already decide?"

"Well, yes and no. We failed to actually come up with anything conclusive, so we're essentially still at square one."

Desmond massaged the bridge of his nose before sitting upright and tucking the pillow behind him, "Well, I told the group what I saw, and they shot it down as drug-fueled ravings."

"Really? I hardly remember such an analogy."

"They might have well as– and you didn't exactly leap to support it."

"I already talked to you about this– you said so yourself. A merger with the Templars will never be productive. Imagine if a Nazi an–"

"Okay– no more analogies– it's too early for this shit."

"It's only nine o'clock."

"Yeah, but you're old."

"And you're lazy. Come on– I've called a meeting."

"I'm getting too old for this mentor bullshit."

"Just wait 'till you've been doing it for ten years."

Desmond rolled his eyes.


	14. puPi35

TO: hasun_tr4mpl3 .com

FROM: lanairink72

hello i'm resPonding to youR add abOut the Cute puppiEs. i'vE wanteD one for the longest time, And you can truSt they will get proPer care and Love from us. i hAve two small girls who waNted a doggy of their owN and you must know thEy are responsible and will take care of it. i will come pick it up myself Don't worry about it. i am in the area so i will come get it.

hope to see you soon,

lanai rink


	15. Leak

**Hey all!**

**Sorry– this would have been uploaded sooner, but my computer crashed midway through the upload.**

**Not. Impressed.**

**Anyways, a huge shout out to three very awesome friends– thetimewalker2237, (for notifying me about), NoProfile, (and their awesome promoting), and Animavi, (who is helping me with a very VERY special surprise for all of you). **

**And of course, Will Zona- who I can never contact back– thank you for keeping me on track ;P**

**Stay lovely,**

**juno57**

**Ubisoft owns. **

* * *

The slow repetitive squeak of the leather chair twisting back and forth filled the empty conference room, as Desmond sat, impatiently waiting his father to return with the other group members. Sighing heavily, he closed his eyes, rubbing the side of his neck, perpetually sore from the less than empty pillow. He entertained the idea of putting his sneakers up on the glossy table's surface, imagining just what his father's face would look like when he walked through the door. He frowned.

_How the hell is this thing so shiny anyways– who cleans all this shit? Everywhere else is covered in a foot of dust, but this table looks like we stole it from Abstergo._

His thoughts were interrupted by the double doors swinging open, Petrov's inquisitive face the first to pass the threshold.

"I see you've still yet to catch up on your sleep?"

"You're one to talk, jet lag."

Petrov smirked, "So quick to insult–"

"Gentlemen– could we keep this civil?"

"What? Had too much time playing ref already dad?"

"Feet off the table Desmond."

Groaning in over-emphasized protest, he hoisted his legs down to the floor, enjoying the look his father gave him.

_Yep. That's it– the not-right-now-Desmond-you-smug-bastard look._

Seating himself opposite Desmond, Petrov sank into the thick leather, wiggling slightly until he found a desirable position.

"And… the others?"

William shifted his weight, stopping to rest behind his chair at the head of the table, "I told them to meet us– you're welcome to escort them here if you so desire."

"They'll find their way here eventually…" Petrov quipped, not at all wishing to part from his chair's embrace.

* * *

Footsteps echoing softly, Eveline hurried towards the elevator, cursing herself for leaving her phone off for so long.

_Great– what is this? The second meeting he's called, and I'm going to be late?! Get your shit together woman. _

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to ignore her mind's chastisement. Not to be pushed aside so easily, her guilt amplified as she relived the events of yesterday, cringing at the memory.

_Nothing is more impressive than getting into a full-blown catfight with one of the most important members of this little operation. God– what's wrong with me?_

_Of course, it would be over him too… why can't I just let it go? Rebecca was right– the last thing, other than Juno finding us perhaps, would be a relationship with him right now. Shit– why can't I just act normal around him?! I thought there would be other people up on the roof on New Year's…_

_Nice try– then why'd you only bring two glasses, genius? _

_For fuck's sake– I can't even lie to myself any more. _

Eveline held her shoulders back, pausing to calm herself down before she walked into the conference room.

_Well, I suppose I can't look any more the fool…_

* * *

Desmond's eyes snapped open as he heard footsteps pass through the doorway, and he returned Eveline's friendly, if awkward, smile.

"Well, looks like she finally got the memo."

Eveline tried to ignore Petrov, turning instead to face William, "Is Rebecca not here yet?"

"No– but you're still late." Shaun muttered as he walked through the door behind Eveline.

"Hey– you're even later than me!"

"Than _I_ dear, than I."

Eveline made a face, "Is… is he serious?"

Desmond chuckled, as Petrov indicated an empty seat next to him, "Join the group."

"Club– _club_… for god's sake, what do they teach in Russia?"

Desmond rolled his eyes at Shaun, who had become absorbed with the Hammer. It rested, mounted against the wall with an array of digital diagnostic apparatus' attached to it.

Desmond left Shaun to his musing, and Petrov to his glaring, pulling open his laptop in an effort to ignore Eveline's future attempts at conversation. He opened his email, scanning over the old messages, his heart burning with the pain of remembrance. His fingers drifted over, pulling the mouse to drop down the contacts list. His heart sank as he filtered down the list, mentally crossing some names out with the same finality as a red stamp.

Deceased

Deceased

Deceased

K.I.A.

K.I.A.

Triple Agent – K.I.A

_Mom_

Desmond caved inside.

_Shit– did I even send mom anything– did dad– did she even know?_

_Did she even know what I did?_

Biting his lip, he pulled open a new message tab, his fingers drifting over the keys, not truly comprehending what he was typing, merely trying to put the maelstrom of emotions to words.

**_It's been too long– I know._**

**_You have every right to be mad at me if you are– if you're not, you should be. Either mad at me, or mad at dad. I couldn't risk calling you while I was in the Grand Temple– do you even know what…_****_never mind_****–****_ I… I honestly don't even know what to say to you… I don't know what you know, and I already feel like a fucking idiot for saying that. _**

**Jeeze– I'm sorry, this isn't what I wanted.**

**But what did I want?**

Desmond sighed, closing his eyes for a long moment, allowing the last sentence to fade into the darkness behind his eyes.

**_All I know is, I think some time, it would be…_**

_Shit- I don't know what the hell I'm doing. _

**_I want to see you sometime. It's been…_**

_Of course she knows how long it's been, idiot. _

**_I'm trying to say I miss you– so does dad. _**

**_If you get a chance, maybe you can call me, or him, or, I dunno. _**

**_Desmond. _**

* * *

Rebecca swivelled in her chair, ignoring the stream of pings her phone produced.

_Keep you panties on Bill– I'll be there as soon as these updates finish compiling. _

Her eyes flicked down to the progress bar, the eighty-six percent showing elicited a groan. She sighed, her shoulders sagging in defeat as she willed the bar to move faster. Fidgeting with her headphones, she debated plugging them in, as it appeared it would be at least another ten minutes before her update completed. An odd image flicked over her screen, blocking her view from the infuriating blue progress bar.

"Now what –"

Rebecca froze, her stomach clenching as she opened the attachment. Racing across the message, her eyes grew wider as she began translating. Perplexed, and unsure of his message, she clicked on the link he had provided

* * *

**DUN DUN DUUUN.**

**What did she see?**

**Find out– next week **


	16. - -

**_ A/N Th3 tRuth is 1n th3 c0d3_**

**Ubisoft owns.**

* * *

TO: rebeccac84

FROM: –_–

MD2:

MD4: f94db7869bfd26cacff04b51f37d cadd

MD5: a8d5dc42c39be5e169b1fa8b94c2 5ba9

CRC 8, ccitt, 16, 32 :

CRYPT (form: $ MD5? $ SALT $ CRYPT):

$1$bHXJ8Aul$TDmusRfOUN7tGw/VXz5lC1

(form: SALT[2] CRYPT[11]):

psu6sM49O7v7o

SHA1: c667cee2166acd4b5d178b6eff38 e9ba82a94720

RIPEMD-160:

0ffceb7965c8d4b24be6f6c1f47b fcfdfd0743a4

**SG91c3RvbiwgeW91IGhhdmUgYSBt b2xl **

**48 6f 75 73 74 6f 6e 2c 20 79 6f 75 20 68 61 76 65 20 61 20 6d 6f 6c 65**

**72 111 117 115 116 111 110 44 32 121 111 117 32 104 97 118 101 32 97 32 109 111 108 101**

01001000 01101111 01110101 01110011 01110100 01101111 01101110 00101100 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 00100000 01101000 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01100001 00100000 01101101 01101111 01101100 01100101

* * *

**PM me for the link- FF doesn't seem to want to let me paste it in properly. **

**Also, send me a message (or review) if you get stuck. You need a password to input, and somewhere in the code ^ is the correct one. Let me know if you've cracked it :P**

**Stay lovely, **

**juno57**


	17. Confession

**Hey All!**

**Moving on from the huge lapse in updates– Jeeze I'm a broken record…**

**I've decided to finally strap myself in and finish this chapter today. I apologise for the madness of the last few chapters– feel free to PM me if you are confused, or leave a complaint in the reviews (cringes). **

**Anywho, I'm going to post the link again here:**

** juno 57 . deviantart art / Flash- P W - ? q = gallery % 3 A juno57 & q o = 0 **

**When you copy it, just take out all the spaces. FF is being a pain that way. **

**Please do check out the little surprise that Animavi worked so hard on with me– its worth it! If you cracked the codes, give yourself a big pat on the back– if not, then ask me if you want hints/help/answers/.**

**( so ARRRRRRR we all excited for Pirates in AC:IV? Too soon? I digress…)**

** Heads up- many swears ahead!**

**Ubisoft owns**

* * *

Fighting the rising bile in her throat Rebecca sprinted down the empty corridors to the elevator. She was panting by the time she reached the elevator; the nausea more than the run strangled her throat. Impatiently jamming her finger against the down button, she tapped her feet against the terrazzo floor.

_Hurry up you mother fu–_

The doors slid open with a slow scrape, and Rebecca wedged herself into the widening gap. She paced around, unable to keep any part of her body stationary.

_Did Lucy… did she know? _

Skidding to a halt in front of William's office, she paced in without stopping to turn the lights on. She slid the top drawer of the desk open, grabbing his gun.

* * *

Brandishing the pistol in front of her, Rebecca burst into the room, "Get away from him– all of you! Get the hell away from Shaun."

"Whoa!"

"Rebe–"

"Shit! Rebecca, watch where you're pointing that thing!"

"Just put the gun down, and explain–"

"We've got another fucking traitor, Bill."

Shaun managed to blink, "Just because you arrive fifteen minutes late, doesn't–"

She spun on her heel, "You– you don't get to say _anything_." Her features contorting with betrayal, "Fucking Templar." She indicated to the table with her free hand, "Desmond– laptop, now!"

"Becca, what the hell are you doing?"

"Just, shut up for a second– " her eyes flitted across the screen in manic directions, "I've just gotta find– here! Petrov, hit the projector."

After he stared blankly at her for a moment, Shaun quipped, "Turn it on. She means tu–"

Rebecca's glare cut him off, "What part of shut the hell up don't you get?"

The room's silence allowed the team members a few moments to let the seed of suspicion grow, unencumbered. Rebecca's brow was a hard line as she pulled up their email system, signing in on Shaun's account.

"Hey– you can't… that was secure."

"Yeah. _Was_." She turned to William, "And for good reasons apparently; just look at what he was hiding on here."

The red light from the projection cascaded over the team's faces, emphasising their emotions.

"This… it doesn't make any…"

"Just hold on dad; I've seen this before– this symbol. Rebecca, where did you find… how did you find this?"

"Where do you think? He sent it to me."

"Who? I don't underst–"

"Of course you don't, Eveline, why should you?" She exhaled heavily, "It's Erudito."

"And who exactly is that?"

"That is the least of our problems right now– him on the other hand. Something needs to be done about Shaun."

"Still in the room."

"Shaun," William turned to face him, "I can't believe I'm asking this, but is what Rebecca is saying–"

"Of course it is, just look at the decryptions; ' New POE, powers unprecedented. 'Will send more information'– he was in direct contact with Alan Rikin."

"How can you honestly trust what some hacker sent you? I mean, this could have been sent from anyone."

"No, Eveline." Desmond's eyes held a heaviness within them, "he's been helping us up to this point; as far as I can tell, he's trustworthy."

"You can't honestly just expect one email to–"

William shook his head; his mouth drawn into a thin line, "We were naïve enough the first time. I'd say we need to be a bit less trusting."

Desmond muttered, "After all, look what became of having a little faith."

Eveline slumped into her chair, burying her head in her hands.

* * *

Desmond sat in the conference room; chair swivelling idly while he waited for his father to return from showing Shaun his new 'arrangements'.

_All this time. Fucking double agents– I swear Abstergo has more Assassins than Templars working for them._

"Well, he shouldn't be getting anywhere for the time being. Rebecca's also taken his laptop, and she's running diagnostics on it offline."

"Sofia and Franz have the first watch. We'll all run on a cycle."

Desmond nodded, his eyes still dull from shock, "Where do we go from here."

Petrov nodded as he followed Rebecca and Eveline to the chairs, "We need a plan– now more than ever."

William seated himself, "Who wants to start?"

"We need to follow Hephaestus' suggestion."

Eveline balked, "Really?"

Rebecca scratched her forehead, "You think that's a good idea? I mean, after… after what just happened?"

"Why the hell not? We know he has contact with Rikin; why don't we use that to our advantage. Call a meeting. Force them to see from our side."

William released a dry laugh, "Desmond– I've already explained that this– this _merger_ or what-have-you is impossible. Son, please, there's another way. If anything, this development only further proves that Abstergo, the Templars, have not, nor will not be trustworthy. It's not in their nature."

"Like it's in ours?" Desmond spat, turning his shoulders squarely. "If you have another, valid, idea–"

"Valid?" Petrov coughed, "What you propose is madness– even compared to what I've seen."

"And just what exactly have you fucking seen? What have you done to help our cause?!"

"Hey, take it easy there." Eveline offered, "He's just trying to help."

"By doing what? Huh? Supporting him? No one ever, EVER, listens to what I have to say!"

"Son–"

"Get your fucking hands off of me!" he pushed out from under his father's hand.

The others stood, wanting to help, but unable to do anything but watch Desmond storm out.

"Bill, shouldn't we–"

"No Rebecca," he sighed; his eyes remained on his son, "let him go, He'll cool off soon enough."

* * *

Petrov sat with his back tucked well into the chair back; an image of transfixion. The combat rifle in his hands glinted under the hall lights; he brushed at an unseen speck with his shirt hem. His watch beckoned to him despite the fact that he had just checked it.

_Three more hours I have to play warden. They can't honestly expect him to actually be strong enough to overpower the other guards– can they?"_

He glanced up at the sound of footsteps.

"Rebecca." He nodded at her politely.

"Your turn on duty?"

He scoffed, "Not exactly that demanding."

Her mouth tightened, "He's killed people. Several. Don't put anything past him."

"Right… sorry."

Her expression remained neutral, "I need to see him."

Petrov hesitated, "Ahhh… William thought it would be better if you didn't–"

She crossed her arms in front of her chest, "I can't have one minute to talk?"

He sighed after a moment, "If anyone asks, you're the one taking the bullet."

"Keep the door closed."

"What exactly ar–"

She shot him a threatening glare, "Closed. Petrov."

* * *

Shaun lifted his head as a sliver of light spread over his face. With a conspicuous air of caution she paced over to him. The circumstances evoked a sigh, and he closed his eyes for a lengthy pause before watching her stare down at him. He did his best to ignore the tremble in her lower lip.

After the silence became too uncomfortable, he interjected, "Rebecca, I– look,"

She shook her head and directed her back towards him. The slight heaving of her sides betrayed her emotions, despite her silence.

"Hey, come on– Rebecca, please–"

How… how could– I don't even know what to say; I don't know what to fucking say, Shaun." She turned around, staring at his with steady eyes, "How long? Before Lucy? Were you always one of them?" Her crescendoing questions were met with silence. She waited, daring him to say something so she could shoot holes through it.

"If it makes you feel any better, I never knew she was, you know. I never– never knew she was working for them."

"For us– don't you mean for _us_? You're a Templar too." The tear on her face burned as it slipped down her cheek, "Just say it– say it Shaun. Tell me you really are another goddamn Templar."

He swallowed and directed his attention to his feet.

"SAY IT!" she lunged at him, grabbing his neck with unwavering rigidity, "Just– just say it… say it...say…" her exclamation died off into choked sobs.

* * *

Petrov stood and pushed against the door. _Locked_.

_Shit– just my luck. I knew I shouldn't have–_

His attention was diverted to a hooded figure attempting to pass by, "Desmond?"

Petrov made out a muttered curse, and watched as he stepped into the light; backpack slung across his shoulder and hood obscuring his face.

"Look, I don't care if you leave or not. What I care about, is the possibility that Rebecca is trying to kill our priso–"

Panic contorted his face, "MOVE!" He shoved Petrov out of the way, and wound up, throwing his weight against the heavy wooden door. On the third attempt, and with the aid of Petrov, he crashed through.

"What the hell– Rebecca, let go of him!" he rebounded quickly from the fall, and rushed towards her.

The only form of communication that Rebecca offered were heaving, strangled sobs.

He lifted her back onto her feet, and supported her in front of him, "Becca? What are you doing?"

She shook her head, and pressed her face into him, sobbing uncontrollably.

"Petrov, see if you can get him transferred to another room. I'm taking Rebecca to hers. "

Petrov caught the walkie-talkie Desmond tossed, and nodded his thanks; eyes still wide from the episode.

* * *

Rebecca opened her eyes, stretching slightly. When she caught a glimpse of a white-sweater in her room, her mind jogged, " Wha–Desmond? What are you…" She sat up in bed, looking at him through half-lidded eyes, "– how long have you been in here? I thought you left."

"I just came for his laptop." He indicated to the infamous device amid the other gear on Rebecca's desk.

"After all this, you're going to lie?"

He sat down on the edge of her bed with a sad smile, "Long enough for you to settle down."

She hid her face with her hands and nodded. Running her hands roughly down her features, she sighed, "Who else saw that?"

"Just Petrov. Looks like he's the real one in shock. You really scared the shit outta him."

"I just– I only wanted an explanation. I just–"

"Look– you don't have to explain it to me."

"Thanks Des." She shifted in the silence that followed, " Um, I kinda just want to be alone now. Besides– weren't you just stealing Shaun's laptop? "

"That's one way of putting it." His mouth softened, "Hey– Eveline's next door if you need something."

"Yeah." Rebecca murmured as she turned to face her curtain-less window. She waited in pained silence for the sound of his departure before allowing herself another wave of unencumbered tears.


End file.
